


Half-Souled

by strikixit



Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Fan Characters, How Do I Tag, Multi, Nonbinary Crona (Soul Eater), Rewrite, Second Generation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikixit/pseuds/strikixit
Summary: The unholy bond of a meister and a witch has created a unique bargaining chip- a powerful child, in some of the worst ways. Sukina Stein is half witch, half human, the daughter of the infamous witch Medusa Gorgon and the famed meister Professor Franken Stein. Hidden from the world since her mother was killed, she disguises not only her true identity, but the powers --and problems-- lying in wait, for the right moment to either sanctify or crucify her.Emily Evans is a weapon, the daughter of the meister and weapon who saved the world from the Kishin Asura, and destroyed the witch Medusa. An unexpected friend brings marvelous and disastrous change to her life, in ways she never could have imagined.Joined by other children of great meisters and weapons, their lives intertwine through friendship, death, and despair, and only one sacrifice can salvage the world falling apart around them.
Relationships: Black Star/Nakatsukasa Tsubaki, Death the Kid/Liz Thompson, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Marie Mjolnir & Yumi Azusa, Medusa Gorgon/Franken Stein
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. A Path Unfolds

**Author's Note:**

> As a note- this work is based off of the canon established by the anime, as opposed to the manga. Medusa is also alive, somehow, in her sneaky snakey way.  
> In the future, this is also where specific trigger warnings for chapters will be placed when they are needed. And thank you for checking out my work! Enjoy!

Soft moonlight illuminated the stretch of rock Stein balanced on, with his eyes closed. He inhaled, then exhaled, focusing on keeping his mind clear. His heart beat steadily as he stood on one foot. His other leg bent at the knee, his foot against his thigh as he held the pose for a few minutes more. At the end of his count, he took one more deep breath, and opened his eyes as he relaxed his body and brought his leg down. 

“A sound soul… dwells within a sound mind, and a sound body,” he murmured, before smiling slightly. Several years of teaching would never let him forget that phrase. 

After a brief moment, he went back to practicing fighting forms. He alternated between this and meditation, to keep himself in shape, but especially in case of any surprise visits from a particular witch.

He glanced around as he kicked and thrust his arms forward, eyeing every shadow gracing the surface of the stone he moved around on. It always happened when he traveled out to this spot to train, and realistically, he probably should have just moved, but he didn’t want to admit he almost missed the playful fighting between himself and the witch Medusa. She’d somehow escaped death after the events of the Kishin’s revival years ago, but… she’d been quiet since. That was nearly 10 years ago, and the meister and weapon pairs who had defeated her and the kishin Asura were all long graduated. Maka and Soul presided over Death City now, with Black Star and Tsubaki also technically stationed there, but traveling for serious remote missions in Asia. Death the Kid had also ascended as the new Lord Death, naturally with Liz and Patti as his personal Death Scythes. 

Stein stumbled slightly on a small rock as he moved that time, distracted by his thoughts. He smiled slightly, reminiscing on when those powerful pairs were still his students. All of them had settled down as well, and he pondered for a moment the possibility of their children becoming his students. None had been born just yet, but he could think about it.

A few more repetitions of his form, and he felt that was enough for the night. He looked around again, wary in case he was being watched. He didn’t quite feel like there were eyes on him, but an uneasy sensation plagued his mind regardless.

It seemed like every time he stepped outside Death City, Medusa found him. Time and time again over the past year, consistently, unless he was with someone else. Stein hadn’t reported anything to lord Death largely because he assumed Medusa would announce herself, with whatever new evil plot she was cultivating. But she never did. Not since the first time she revealed herself to him, and accosted him about listening to some grand plan a year and a half ago had she appeared anywhere else. He grimaced thinking about frankly, how annoying it was, as he walked over to where he’d set a shirt, his coat, a water bottle, and a few other things down on the ground. Something was always off about her when she found him, and when they fought, before she eventually withdrew and disappeared for another day.

Even that, he noted, was off. 

“It’s never been like her to retreat like she does now…” he murmured aloud, grabbing his screw and turning it until it clicked. 

His hand fell to his side, and his gaze fell too, landing upon a shadow coming from behind him. A pointed tail in the shape of an arrow darted around either side, restless. “Oh Stein, were you thinking about me? I’m flattered,” a smooth voice commented. He whipped around to lay his eyes on the slim figure of the witch Medusa, clad in her classic black jumpsuit with the hood pulled over her head. Her soul pulsed, and Stein felt its power.

“Have you given any thought to finally hearing me out? It’s really rather annoying—” she began, but interrupted by Stein charging at her with his palms sparking from soul force. Her eyes widened, and she jumped up in the air over him, gritting her teeth as she landed on the ground and turned her head back to look at him. “It’s really rather annoying that you try to attack me every time I try to tell you about this!” she finished.

“Another evil plan to bring about a kishin?” he guessed, preparing for an attack from her, but charging again after a moment of waiting for nothing. He went to hit her in her side, but she blocked him, and they sparred in close combat, blocking punches, kicks, and other hits from each other. Medusa seemed oddly focused on blocking his hits and nothing more, and he kept trying to analyze her movements, to anticipate any attacks before they happened, but they never did. 

Every single time she’d found him in the past year, she never acted offensively. No spells except for defensive purposes, and she’d only engage in combat like this unless he prompted it. The gears in his head whirred trying to figure out what she was up to, until he finally managed to land a hand on her. His hand firmly gripped her hip, and after a little smirk that caught her off guard, he shot his soul force into her body, knocking her back several yards with a yell, and almost off the mesa. She grasped onto a rock at the edge at just the right time, and brought her pointed tail around to procure a stable grip in the stone before she propelled herself back up and over, landing feet first. Trickles of blood, shining scarlet in the moonlight, dripped from her mouth down her chin, brought about from the force of Stein’s attack. She wiped it away with her thumb as she furrowed her brow, flicking it onto the stone. 

“I take it we’re going to fight until I get tired of your impotence once more, then find you again and repeat?” she drawled, groaning. “Aren’t curious what I have to say? Aren’t you tired of this yet?” she inquired, before grunting slightly as he used the leftover energy of the soul force attack to suture her feet to the ground, then charged. She grit her teeth and cut the soul sutures with her tail, then dodged quickly around Stein with a group of vector plates. 

“Not particularly!” he retorted, spinning around to re-engage in their sparring from moments before. Medusa narrowed her eyes and jumped back, missing another jab from Stein that would’ve sent her flying otherwise. 

“Damnit, Stein! If you don’t want my help, I can do it myself. A year isn’t long at all for a witch, but it’s still annoying when you won’t be listened to!” She sighed quickly and heavily, more like a sharp exhale, and finally relented from keeping up the mystery of her objective. “I may not be a problem anymore for the DWMA, but I know plenty of other witches are! I have a proposition for you, and for the DWMA as a whole,” she explained, counting on Stein to stop, but counting wrong. He rushed forward anyway, where they exchanged blows again, back and forth with fierce tenacity, jabs and kicks and punches and grabs, until a fast roundhouse kick from the side knocked Medusa to the ground. She grit her teeth and clutched her side, looking up at Stein as he walked forward.

“I don’t know what you’re pulling, but you’re a fool to think I’d believe you’re doing something to help the academy,” Stein muttered.

“What about something to help myself?” she offered, watching him tense as she sat up, wincing as she grabbed her side for support. “That’s more in character with my selfish witch nature, isn’t it?” she asked mockingly, chuckling slightly at the end with a grin. 

Stein stood his ground. “Why the academy? What’s to gain by aligning with it rather than the witch coven?” he persisted, raising an eyebrow. “Surely they can’t be too happy about you doing that.”

“The Witch Order doesn’t care about witches they’ve cast out,” she put in, recovering enough strength to stand, watching Stein prepare to attack, and reluctantly raising her hands to attempt to assure she wouldn’t do the same. “Please give me just a few minutes, Stein, to explain myself and my idea… once you hear it, I have a feeling you’ll agree with me on things.” Medusa waited, hopeful as Stein finally relaxed. He watched her for a moment, moving to grab his shirt and other things but keeping an eye on her. He bent down to grab everything, turning quickly back around, but she still stood in the same spot, unmoved. “I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to watch me like that unless you like it,” she teased, snickering. 

“You’re insufferable,” Stein commented, unamused, but with a just a hint of blush tinting his cheeks.

“You do miss me after all, then,” she replied, grinning. She caught him rolling his eyes, and watched him walk over. Once he looked ready, she put her arms down and exhaled.

Medusa began to detail her plan, starting with the obvious, that the DWMA didn’t like her, and now neither did the Witch Order, who excommunicated her after her repeated experiments, with the failure of raising the kishin Asura being the last straw. She revealed that in the last ten years, she’d had time to think about her place in things, and she decided one thing: that she didn’t like losing. Stein chuckled at that. Medusa huffed. 

“I’m serious! I’m tired of it!” she admitted, grumbling.

“Understood, understood,” he repeated, smirking.

“Whatever.” 

She picked back up on her story, moving into how she spent her time after the fact. She fell into a habit of meditating, but unlike the way she’d done it previously to enhance the chaotic instinct of her witch soul, she attempted to suppress it. And she gained clarity. 

“And dare I say, I’ve gained a sense of morality,” she admitted, rather disgruntled.

“Oh congratulations,” Stein responded, clapping.

“Stop patronizing me!” she hissed, to which he began laughing as well. “What ended up happening is that I figured I’d have a better chance of being on the winning side with the academy. You already defeated chaos once, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. Especially since the _children_ that did so the first time are all full grown Death Scythes and powerful Meisters by now,” she added, sighing.

“They sure are,” he affirmed, smiling. “So what exactly are you prepared to offer the DWMA? For immunity, I’m assuming,” he continued, grabbing the water bottle he’d brought from his bag, and opening it to take a sip.

“Locations of nearly every witch in the coven, across the globe.” Stein spat out the water he’d just drank. Medusa grimaced, but she carried on. “I figured if the academy couldn’t cross me off their list, then perhaps they’d prefer hundreds of other witches instead… from your reaction, I’d say I can safely assume I’m right.”

“You most certainly are,” he affirmed, blinking. “You really mean hundreds?” Medusa nodded, and Stein took a moment to think about the situation. This was unprecedented, for sure, but absolutely opportune. Almost too good. “And you’re not at all going to be affected by the deaths of hundreds of your own kind?”

“They cast me out. They are no concern of mine, unless you’re counting revenge,” she answered bluntly, but with a smile on the edge of her lips. Stein shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Medusa waited for him to say something else, but he just picked up his water bottle and took a sip, thankfully not spitting it out this time. She gave it another moment before growing impatient, and picking the conversation back up. “I don’t expect the plan to move forward very fast, it’ll take time,” she noted, standing up. Stein watched her as she rose, the moonlight illuminating her from behind. Her golden eyes glowed in the shadow of her form, and he choked a little on his water. Medusa snickered as he set the water bottle down, wiped his mouth, and moved to stand. After he’d wiped his hand on his pants, Medusa extended hers. He took it and stood up, several inches taller than her. They locked eyes for a moment, before Stein brought his hand back to his side with a turned glance, and Medusa cleared her throat. “Well. I’ll be around, once we figure out how to present this.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome to find me again to talk about it. I understand this is a strange situation, but as long as you’re casting soul protect, my lab is on the edge of the city, and it should be safe to speak there until we guarantee your immunity.”

Medusa raised an eyebrow. “Inviting me into your home? How polite, Stein, are you sure you’re not getting soft in your old age?” she teased, waiting a moment before speaking again. “And there’s no one else there with you? The last time we fought about the Kishin I thought you were involved with someone.”

Stein rolled his eyes, then stopped and looked off to the side. “If you’re thinking of Marie- the hammer death scythe- she’s not here anymore,” he clarified, sounding a little sullen. “She went back to Oceania after Asura was defeated. Got married about a year ago, right before you started hounding me,” he added.

Medusa nodded. “Ah. My mistake, I didn’t mean to press.”

Stein shrugged again. “It’s alright, this is better for her. Another human being that’s not insane is more her pace,” he acquiesced, before his neutral expression changed to a small grin. “And what’s this about me getting soft? You just apologized to someone,” he pointed out, chuckling. Medusa smiled and did the same.

“Morality, I suppose. I’m still getting used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hummed.

“So you’re still all alone in that lab?” she inquired, stepping closer to him, her eyebrows still raised. Stein looked a little miffed, but he sensed where she was going. 

“I am, do you have anything else to ask of me?” he replied, glancing down as she took a step closer, and not one more, as they were inches away from each other from the last step. 

She took down her hood. “Just if you’d like any company. Beyond deciding anything about my… _our_ plan,” she offered, waiting just a moment before standing on her toes and kissing him. He leaned into it and wrapped an arm around her as their fingers interlaced, and her other hand rested on his shoulder, just as they had done all those years ago at the anniversary dance- save the kiss. They held the embrace for a moment before breaking away, their breathing soft.

“I wasn’t sure if you would,” Stein admitted. “I wasn’t sure if _I_ would.”

“I thought it would be a good way to start our partnership in this plan. An act of trust,” she explained, smiling slightly. “No snakes involved this time.”

“I see,” he affirmed, stepping back and picking up his things. “You wouldn’t like to come back to the lab with me tonight for a few more ‘acts of trust’ by chance, would you?” he inquired, as he pulled a shirt on over his bare chest. Medusa seemed a little displeased at that.

“Stein, you horny bastard,” she muttered, as he let go of a little cackle, and they traveled back through the desert together.

  
  
  


Several months later, Medusa stood in front of a mirror with an unsure expression on her face. Her hands rested on her abdomen, now rounded and protruding. “Stein, how did this happen? How did we let this happen?” she asked, as he wheeled around on his swivel chair behind her, back and forth between two desks.

“I think a little too many ‘acts of trust’, as I recall,” he responded with a snicker. Medusa rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not good with kids, Stein, in case you forgot,” she murmured sourly, watching the reflection in the mirror as he came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She sighed and thought about Crona. “I just don’t want this child to end up the way he did, if we’re trying to do “good” here.”

“They,” Stein corrected gently. Medusa groaned and rubbed her temples.

“Right, they, I keep forgetting,” she grumbled, then walked away from the mirror. “Even though I know you’ve said it’s best to keep the child, I’m not stupid enough to actually think we’re going to be good parental figures. Not even parents, just acting.” 

Stein went back to his chair and sat down, reaching for a cigarette to light but finding nothing there. Still a habit. He looked around on the desk for this side of the room, scanning for the most recent cup. More mugs, cups, and beakers that ended up being used for food or drink stood scattered across the workspace, but he spotted the one he’d brought in a few hours ago. The tea in it was cold now, but he grabbed it to sip away at anyways as Medusa continued talking.

“And you’re not the one who’s going to have to push this thing out, either. I am _not_ looking forward to that again,” she complained, grimacing. 

“I could do a C-section if you’d prefer,” he offered, before a sip of the cold tea.

Medusa considered it for a moment, but shook her head. “I just don’t think it’s going to be worth it. We have to push the plan back so much farther—”

“ _But_ there is a much lower chance of you being killed on the spot the second you walk up the steps of the DWMA if there is a child there, as a meister, who is physical proof of your commitment. Especially if they’re strong, that’s good for the academy,” he reminded. “And they should be, considering the two souls that created them.” Medusa still looked uneasy. But she gave his words a few minutes to sit in the air, and then walked back over to the mirror. Stein took another sip of his cold tea as he watched her. She rested her hands on her abdomen again, looking down.

“Can you see them?”

“Their soul?”

“Yes, Stein, I don’t expect meisters to have x-ray vision,” she chided, earning a snicker from him. He set his cup down and walked up behind her again, placing his hands on top of hers and closing his eyes. It took a moment, but he could see them, a little soul between their fully grown ones. It was blue, but with patches and speckles of purple. 

“I can see them. It’s a peculiar little soul.”

“Any idea if it’s a girl or boy?”

“No clue.” 

“Wonderful.”

“Hey, seeing souls isn’t limitless you know.”

“I know, I know,” she repeated, sighing. “I just want to know… I hope things are different this time.”

  
  


Several more months later, Medusa sat on the grey couch in what somewhat passed as a living room area, hold an infant girl wrapped in a blanket. Curls of blonde hair framed her face, and her large, golden orange eyes looked up at her mother. Medusa simply held her and looked at her. She wouldn’t say it was love, but she was drawn to this child in a way that she never was to Crona. The more she thought about, the more that damned newfound sense of morality became more and more annoying. Stein assured her that even normal, sane human parents had favorite children, but she could lie to herself like most do to make her feel better about it.

That last bit was particularly disconcerting, but she ignored the whole string of thoughts associated with it for the moment. She forgot how lazy babies were. This thing did nothing but sleep, eat, shit, and cry, and it was supposed to continue doing that for how long? She had to remember everything she had been glad to forget, although Stein admittedly, somehow, was doing better than she was. It surprised the both of them, but he seemed to have changed slightly when the child was born as well. 

They had decided to name her Sukina. 

Medusa continued holding the child and staring at it, until she looked up at the sound of the door. Stein walked in, and closed it behind him. He spotted the two of them on the couch, and smiled slightly. He walked over and sat down next to Medusa, looking down at Sukina. 

“Has she been good today?” he asked.

“I’d say so. Definitely better than Monday.”

“Well, anything would be better than Monday. You mind if I hold her?”

“Not at all, she’s just looking around right now,” Medusa replied, carefully handing the baby to Stein. He took her with gentleness, which always surprised him, even if it had been happening for three months now. 

“She’s got such big eyes,” he commented, chuckling. “What are you looking at, Sukina? Hm?” he asked. He shifted her weight to rest on one of his arms, so that he could bring up his hand in front of her. She wriggled slightly, and brought up her chubby arms to waggle them in the air. He held out his index finger, and she gurgled before grabbing onto it. “Would you look at that, huh?” he murmured. “I bet she’ll be ready to fight kishins in no time,” he joked, laughing. 

“I think it’s just a _little_ early to be thinking about that,” Medusa put in, but Stein shrugged, and pulled his finger away before Sukina could put it in her mouth. She began to whine, and both adults looked around for a pacifier. Medusa walked quickly across the room to the sink, grabbing a clean one from a drying rack and bringing it back over. She placed it in Sukina’s mouth, and her whines ceased. Both of them sighed of relief. 

“Maybe too early to think about that, but not about the other aspect of her soul,” Stein noted, glancing at Medusa. She knew what he meant. Since Sukina was born female, the chances of her developing witch’s magic were much higher… and so were the chances of developing a witch’s chaotic instinct. 

“Stein…”

“This is part of the plan, Medusa, we need to figure out how to manage this when the time comes.”

“ _If_ the time comes, I’ll train her, Stein. Don’t worry. You can cover combat and her abilities as a meister, and I’ll take care of her abilities as a witch. If that’s necessary, if she develops the potential for any.”

Stein sighed and looked down at the baby girl cradled in his arms. “Alright, alright.”

“Everything will be fine, don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”


	2. The Good Times

“Sukina Stein, you have to eat some breakfast before we leave today,” Stein chided, crossing his arms as he looked down at his nearly-three year old with a firm glare. She crossed her arms and mimicked his expression, looking back up at him.

“ _ You _ didn’ eat bweakfast!” she protested. “You just had a cup!”

“I had a cup of coffee. That’s grown-up breakfast,” Stein explained, pulling out a bowl from a cupboard. “How about some cereal real quick? We’ve gotta leave soon to be on time,” he reminded. Sukina pondered, but quickly solidified her decision once Stein pulled out the cereal box that was basically all sugar. 

“Treasure! Treasure!” she chirped, trying to reach onto the counter to grab the box, and almost completing the name of the cereal. “Lemme pour! Lemme pour!”

“Ah, I don’t think so. You poured out the whole box last time, and then we had to sweep everything up. I’ll pour you a bowl, okay? But you can get the milk,” he suggested. Sukina huffed, momentarily angry, but she quickly forgot once she had to focus on carrying the gallon of milk the five feet from the refrigerator to where Stein stood by the counter. She forgot to close the door after grabbing the milk, although Stein took care of that once he’d poured the cereal, then the milk, and set it out at the table with a spoon for her to eat. A few moments later, Medusa walked out into the main room, which contained the kitchen and dining area, as well as the living room area. It’d undergone a good bit of maintenance and refurbishing since Sukina was born, although the zigzagging stitch patterns still adorned the walls and floors, and it still felt colder than a normal home. But this wasn’t a normal home, and that suited its inhabitants just fine. 

As Sukina wolfed down her cereal, Medusa walked by and pat her on the head. She hummed happily as she chewed. Medusa glanced around the kitchen area in case anything needed to be cleaned up, and looked at Stein. “I’ll be out probably until midnight or so. Some… old friends have been moving a lot. I want to make sure they’re still trackable, and let off some steam, as per usual,” she outlined, wrapping her arms around him before they shared a look, and kissed.

“EWWWW!” Sukina squealed, through a mouthful of cereal. Stein and Medusa stopped and turned to look at her, mischievous looks in their eyes. “No kissing!” she demanded, before slurping up the milk in her bowl and getting down from the table. Her parents snickered, and looked down at her as she held out her empty bowl and spoon.

“I can’t reach it,” she stated, then pointed to the sink.

“I got it,” Stein offered, taking the bowl, rinsing it, and then setting it in there for later. “Sukina, say goodbye to your mom.”

“Mommy, where are you going?” Sukina asked, as Medusa picked her up from the ground and held her. 

“Just on a trip. I’ll be back when you wake up tomorrow. You’re going to go with your dad to school today,” she answered, pushing a strand of Sukina’s hair back behind her ear. It was loose from her two pigtails, but it wasn’t long enough to be held back by them anyways. Sukina looked at her mother for a moment or two, then wrapped her arms around her and hugged her.

“I love you Mommy,” she murmured, smiling and making kissing noises when she was done. Medusa chuckled and kissed all over Sukina’s face, earning bouts of high-pitched giggling, before she set her daughter back down on the ground. 

“Sukina, go get your shoes on by the door, okay? Give us just a minute,” Stein remarked, to which Sukina obliged, and scampered off to the door to slip on a pair of black rain boots she’d become very attached to. Stein watched her sit down and slip them on, and he turned to Medusa. “Just be careful as always, alright?”

“I will. You worry too much,” she commented, kissing him again on the cheek. “Make sure she’s asleep when I get back,” she added with a wink. Stein chuckled and nodded.

“Will do,” he affirmed, then walked over to the door where Sukina was waiting patiently. All three walked down, and Stein hoisted Sukina up in his arms, then on top of his shoulders as they walked to the city. Medusa waited until they were far enough away, then turned and walked off, until she reached the limits of Death City, and released her Soul Protect.

Stein could almost say he was excited to bring Sukina to the academy for the first time. He didn’t feel any emotions very strongly, but he knew someone else who would definitely be very delighted to see Sukina. He’d carried her on his shoulders the entire way here, and she ecstatically pointed at every other building, person, or thing on the street and asked about it. Stein answered most of her questions, and that satisfied her, but when they found themselves in front of the DWMA, Sukina fell quiet with awe. It was a bit of relief as Stein walked up the steps, drawing the attention of numerous students he passed. Some seemed immediately concerned he was carrying a young, small child, and some were just mildly intrigued.

They reached the top of the steps, walking past more groups of students drawn to attention by them. Sukina began to shrink, holding onto her father’s head and burying most of her face in his hair. “Daddy… why are dey looking at us…?” she whispered, peeking out at all the students. “Big kids are scary…”

“I promise they’re not scary, but little kids like you don’t come very often. And it’s because it’s a little strange to see me with a little kid, too. Because a lot of the big kids think I’m scary,” he explained, with a little chuckle at the end. 

“But why…? You’re just tall,” she returned.

Stein shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me,” he joked, grinning to himself as they walked through the doors, into the large open hallway on the ground floor. “You’ll meet some students today, in my class. You’re gonna be my assistant today.”

“Ass-intint?” she sounded out.

“Close, as-sis-tant. And if we can find him, I want to introduce you to someone else, too,” Stein replied, scanning the light crowd inside for his former weapon partner. Spirit retired as soon as Soul Evans became a Death Scythe, so he wasn’t always around, but he still loved to come in to substitute. Sometimes he came in just to visit and be in the atmosphere. Stein continued walking in the halls and turned a corner, spotting Spirit talking to Sid. They appeared to finish up a conversation, Sid patting Spirit on the shoulders with a smile before they parted ways. Stein decided to wait for Spirit to come his way, and he grinned with amusement as Spirit squinted in disbelief, registering that there was a small child on Stein’s shoulders.

Students continued to pass by them, but most were preoccupied with their own conversations, or beginning to head to class. Spirit finally walked up to Stein, and looked up. Sukina stared back at him, still acting shy, but relaxing now that less students paid them any mind. “Good morning, Spirit,” Stein greeted.

“Morning… why do you have a kid with you, Stein?"

“Same reason I asked you for books on parenting a couple years ago,” he answered, and looked up at Sukina with a smile.

It took a moment for things to fully register for Spirit. “Wait then… oh… OH… You have a kid? Oh shit,” he commented, blinking.

“Shit!” Sukina chirped, giggling. Spirit immediately covered his mouth in embarrassment, and Stein let go of a hearty laugh. 

“She already knew it, don’t worry,” he assured his friend. “She knows a couple things she shouldn’t, but that’s how it is, I guess,” he digressed. “Alright, Sukina, it’s down time,” he warned, picking her up off his shoulders and holding her in his arms instead. She protested slightly, but not too much, and held onto the collar of his lab coat. She looked back and forth between her father and Spirit, not sure what to make of him. “Sukina… this is Uncle Spirit,” Stein introduced, at which Spirit melted. 

“I’m…  _ Uncle Spirit _ ?” he asked, his eyes watering with tears of joy, and his lip quivering with a sincere smile. 

“Spiwit,” Sukina mouthed, looking at him. “Uncle Spiwit.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Stein asked.

“DO I? Of course I do! Come ‘ere, Sukina! Uncle Spirit’s gotcha!” he hummed, holding out his arms as Stein passed Sukina over. She didn’t complain, though it was a little weird being held by someone who wasn’t her mother or father, and someone she’d just met. But Spirit seemed kind, and Sukina began playing with his tie.

“Be careful with my kid now,” Stein urged, rubbing the back of his neck. It hadn’t been taxing, carrying her all the way from the lab, but it did still feel nice to have her off his shoulders.

“Of course I will! Who do you think I am?” he retorted, rolling his eyes and giving Sukina a good look-over. No signs of stitches or dissections, which seemed surprisingly good, but he definitely wasn’t going to comment on it and give Stein any ideas. She didn’t seem to be reanimated either, she wasn’t blue, or a zombie, she seemed very much alive, but Stein might’ve gotten better at his technique over the years.  _ How many kids’ bodies would be lying around to reanimate, though…? Actually, on second thought, I don’t want to know _ , Spirit thought, gulping.  _ Maybe she was abducted?? Or maybe she’s actually his kid?? Somehow? I mean… She doesn’t look a lot like him… but kinda there, almost in the nose, and her face _ … 

Spirit’s thoughts were interrupted when Sukina pulled out a scalpel from her jacket pocket, and he promptly screamed. 

_ NOPE! Definitely his kid! _

“Oh, she must’ve grabbed that out of my pockets at some point on the way here,” Stein surmised, amused, and chuckling slightly as Spirit panicked. Sukina didn’t seem to be doing anything with the scalpel, she was just playing with it, but that still worried Spirit.

“You’re being awfully calm about this, Stein,” Spirit grumbled. 

“Should I take away the scalpel?”

“Yes, please take away the knife from the small child,” he requested. Stein shrugged and gently pulled the scalpel out of Sukina’s hands. She whined a little, but didn’t pitch a fit.

“Thank you Sukina. No knives at school, okay? New rule. At least for now,” he decided, snickering. Spirit decided he would be worried just a little bit longer. At least, until Sukina looked at him with her big orange eyes, and his heart melted again. 

“Okay!” she agreed, giggling innocently. “Uncle Spiwit?” she prompted, looking at him.

“Oh, mhm? What is it Sukina?”

“Are you a weapon, or a may.. meiser? Meister?” she asked, looking at her dad for confirmation. He gave a nod, and she turned back to Spirit for an answer.

“Oh that’s easy, I’m a weapon! I’m one of the strongest ones, yknow, called a Death Scythe,” he stated proudly.

“But you’re old like Daddy.” The bluntness of the comment struck Spirit, gritting his teeth a little. But he couldn’t get angry at a kid, especially when she was right. Grey hairs had been coming in for a while, and he couldn’t exactly deny it. At least she’d called Stein old, too. That made him feel a little better.

“She doesn’t hold back, does she?” he inquired, setting her down. “Here, check this out Sukina. Stand back a little now,” he instructed, and Sukina listened. Spirit took a moment for effect, then summoned multiple scythe blades on his arms and back, much to Sukina’s amazement. She squealed with delight, smiling wide, and Spirit felt very proud of himself. “Impressive, isn’t it? Although I will say my son-in-law’s scythe blades are a bit cooler, with the red  _ and  _ black,” he admitted, shrugging as his scythe blades disappeared.

“WOAHH!” Sukina exclaimed. “Can I do that? Daddy can I do that??” she questioned, running around and tugging on her father’s pant leg. Both he and Spirit chuckled.

“Mm, probably not, Sukina,” Stein admitted, reaching out his hands for Sukina. She obliged him, and he picked her up. Spirit smiled. “I can’t do that, so I don’t think you will be either,” he explained.

“Is her mother a meister too? Or no?” Spirit prodded, casually. 

Stein didn’t hesitate a beat. “No, she’s not a weapon or a meister,” he answered, truthfully, though not telling the whole truth. “So Sukina will probably be a meister, just like her dad,” he added, smiling slightly as he looked down at her. She smiled back up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug.

“I’m surprised you haven’t introduced me, Stein. Your kid is— how old is she?”

“Right around three. In a few weeks, actually.”

“Oh, I’ll have to bring her a birthday present then! Sukina, do you think you’ll come to school on your birthday?” Spirit inquired. Sukina looked at her father, who shrugged, and then nodded with a smile. Spirit chuckled. “What do you like?”

“Books!” she said, with a sparkle in her eyes that reminded Spirit much of his own daughter. It was almost funny.

“Books! Just like my Maka,” he reminisced, happily thinking back. “Are you reading already? You’re such a smart girl.”

“Yes! I know lots of words,” she stated proudly.

“I’ll bring you some books for your birthday then. Uncle Spirit will not disappoint!” he decreed enthusiastically, chuckling again. “You’ve got a cute kid, Stein. Must’ve gotten all of it from her mom, though,” he added cheekily.

“Gee thanks, Spirit,” Stein responded, miffed.

“You know I’m kidding, Stein, but seriously… you settled down with someone? Would’ve never seen it coming.”

Stein titled his head to the side and made a bit of a face. “Well, not quite…”

“Oh, no I understand,” Spirit replied in a hushed whisper. “So was it just a random dame? Or someone— My god, wait, was it Marie?? She looks so much like her—”

“No, Spirit, Marie’s been married for a while now,” Stein responded, a little tart. “She’s got her own kid, too. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“My bad, my bad,” he apologized, shrugging. “So who is it then? Are you going to introduce me?” he questioned, as Stein began walking again, towards the classroom. Spirit understood and kept pace, and Sukina perked up to look over Stein’s shoulder as they began passing students again, ready to head to class before the bell rang. Stein considered the question for a moment before answering.

“She’s… not exactly a people person. Likes being around others less than I do.”

“That would be your type, wouldn’t it?” Spirit asked. Soon they found themselves in front of the EAT classroom, with students filing inside, and some stopping to wave at Sukina. She shrank down again against her father’s shoulder, peeking out from over the top of it, which some students found cute, and giggled at. Sukina watched them all as they walked in.

“Seems so. Glad you came today, Spirit. Sukina’ll be around a lot more now that she’s old enough. Mom can’t handle her every day, you know,” Stein said, looking at her resting against his shoulder with a smile. Spirit smiled as well, and let go of a happy sigh.

“I miss when Maka was this small… but I’ll get to do it all over again soon! I can’t believe I didn’t say so earlier, but I’m a grandfather now, Stein! Can you believe it?” he exclaimed. “A baby girl named Emily. She’s just over a month old and she is the CUTEST! So tiny, but so full of life,” he added dreamily. “I’m probably going to stop by and see her and her parents today, after I make sure Kid— I mean  _ Death _ doesn’t need anything. Yknow he and Liz are expecting too.”

“Lots of strong meisters and weapons to be running around in a few years,” Stein guessed. Spirit nodded.

“You know it! Witches don’t stand a chance,” he commented with a smirk, walking away as the bell for school rang, right at eight o’clock, instead of seven like it used to be. When Death the Kid ascended to be the new Lord Death, he’d promptly changed it. 

“Heh, yeah…” Stein trailed off, watching Spirit go. He exhaled, then walked into the classroom to introduce his students to Sukina, and a new unit concerning the early history of demon weapons.

  
  
  


Emily, now around 6 years old, doodled at the coffee table in the living room of her house, coloring the sky with a bright blue crayon. She pushed her short, white hair behind her ear as she colored around the sun and clouds that she’d already outlined. Her green eyes sparkled with joy as she finished her small masterpiece, holding it up and smiling at it. “Mommy! Mommy!” she squealed, standing up and looking for her mother.

“What is it, Emmy?” Maka asked, looking up from a book at the kitchen table.

“I made a pretty picture! See, it’s got a sun and some trees and a bird and grass, and some clouds and a doggie!” Emily explained, pointing everything out as she talked. 

“That’s beautiful, Emmy,” Maka complimented, smiling. Emily beamed proudly, and held it out for her mother. She blushed slightly, glancing down and expecting her mom to take it. Maka chuckled and took it into her hands. “Is it for me?” Maka asked. Emily nodded, looking back up at her mom. “Thank you, I’m going to put it up on the fridge, okay?” 

“Mhm! You’re welcome!” Emily chirped, replying.

As Maka smiled, got up, and walked over to the fridge to move some magnets, Emily heard the familiar hum of her dad’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway. She perked up and walked over to the door, smiling and giggling as Soul walked in with a bag. “Daddy! Daddy!”

“What? Who are you? How do you know my name?” Soul joked, scratching his head walking into the kitchen before setting the bag down on the table. “I don’t know any little girls around here as cute as you!”

Emily giggled louder and followed him, hugging his leg once he stopped. “I’m Emily! You’re my Daddy!” she reminded, smiling. “You’re being silly!”

Soul gasped, putting his hand on his forehead as he “remembered”. “You’re right! I must’ve forgotten, Emmy. Thanks for reminding me,” he said, chuckling as he squatted down to ruffle her hair with his hand. Emily hummed and held onto his hand, walking closer to him and hugging him. Soul hugged his daughter back, smiling at the feeling of her small arms reaching around him. Maka walked over from putting Emily’s picture on the fridge and kissed her husband on the cheek as he stood up. Emily then noticed the bag in his hand.

“Daddy, what’s in the bag? What’s in it?” she prodded, trying to grab it and peek inside. Soul chuckled and moved it away.

“It’s a surprise, Emmy. Here, close your eyes,” he suggested. 

“Okay!” she complied, and put her fingers over her eyes. Soul smiled and held open the bag, pulling something out of it. Emily slid her fingers slightly apart to peek, but Soul caught her and put the object back in the bag. Emily huffed, and Maka smiled a little as she walked back over. Soul waited a moment more, and he pulled out a headband like the one he used to wear. He knelt down and held it up.

“Alright Emmy, you can look now.” 

Emily pulled her hands away and gasped, smiling. “A headband!” she squealed, reaching out and grabbing it. She looked at Soul for a moment and took it gently out of his hands, then held it for a moment just to make sure. She smiled wide and giggled, putting it on and fixing it on her head. Soul helped her fix it up, so it wasn’t wonky and so her hair wouldn’t be sticking out in odd places. It rested above her bangs and hugged the bottom of her head snugly. “I love it Daddy! Thank you!” she chirped, hugging him. 

Soul hugged her back, but added, “That isn’t all, Emmy.”

“What’s the rest?”

“I gotta get it out, gimme a sec,” he began, reaching back into the bag and pulling out a pin. “I had to get a new one ‘cuz the other one’s super old, but this is the same pin I wore on that headband when I was a kid.”

“Except you were 14, Soul,” Maka put in, chuckling slightly.

“She’s not too young to be cool,” he defended, laughing along with her. Emily was a little confused. Soul shrugged it off and held up the pin to Emily’s headband. “Hold still now Emmy,” he commanded. Emily did as she was told, and her father pinned it onto the tan headband. The pin showed a mouth with red lips, and the word “EAT” spelled out around the bottom edge of it. “There you go,” he finished.

“How do you know that she’ll be a weapon, hm? What if she’s a meister?” Maka asked, crossing her arms.

“Because she’s my daughter,” Soul explained, standing up. “Obviously she’s gonna be the coolest, so that means she’s gotta be a weapon.”

“Excuse me? She’s my daughter too, so she’s definitely going to be a meister, Soul.”

“Weapon.”

“Meister.”

“Weapon!”

“Meister!”

A yawn from Emily broke their banter. 

“I’m tired…” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Her parent’s attention was immediately drawn to her.

“Oh… It is after lunch, I should’ve put you down for your nap a little while ago,” Maka supposed, picking up her daughter. Emily clung to her mother, already starting to fall asleep. Soul smiled and kissed her forehead, staying behind in the kitchen and watching as his wife walked back to Emily’s room with her. Maka set her down on her bed and pulled the comforter over her, tucking her in. “Have a good nap, Emmy,” she murmured softly.

Soul peeked his head into her bedroom suddenly, with a serious look on his face. “Maka,” he whisper-yelled, being careful to not wake Emily. Maka looked  up at the sound of her name, kissed Emily’s forehead, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

“What is it, Soul?” she asked, worried. 

“It’s Medusa. She showed up in the city, her soul protect’s off, she’s out in the open and she isn’t getting out. Kid— I mean Death wants us to take her out.”

“What?! But I thought she was dead!”

“So did everyone else, but you know her. Death wants us to make sure she’s dead this time, for real,” Soul concluded. “Emily’s asleep, she’ll be fine.” Maka glanced at the door, then back at her husband. She nodded confidently. 

“Let’s do it.”


	3. Regrets and Hesitations

Medusa kicked off her shoes as she sped down the street, running much faster barefoot. It was almost comforting, if it weren’t for the fact that the impact of the ball of her foot hitting the concrete sent shots of pain through her legs, and resonated through her body. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating against her ribcage like a drum as it struggled to pump blood throughout her body. The echo of her heart rung in her head and in her ears, dispelling every thought except for  _ run _ . 

Her lungs heaved with each breath, desperate for air as she persisted. She hurriedly glanced behind her, eyes widening as she dodged to the side and landed onto the street. She jerked her head up to see that she narrowly missed a killer blow that would have otherwise sliced her in half. Soul’s weapon form had stuck into the pavement instead of its target from the throw by his wife, using him almost like a boomerang.

Medusa didn’t wait for Maka to pick him up and pull him from the nook between the cobblestones. She scrambled back up on her feet and continued pushing her way through the crowded outside shopping areas if the pulses from her soul didn’t force people to step away before she did so. The pulsations beat almost as fast as her heart, throbbing like a migraine in not just her head but her chest, and her entire body. Hot, sticky, sweat ran down her back and her forehead, and she could focus on nothing else but running and staying alive.

She needed to. It was the only option.

She couldn’t retaliate, she couldn’t try to explain, she couldn’t reason, and she couldn’t beg for mercy. She knew she wouldn’t get it. She couldn’t risk pulling in Sukina, in case they went to hunt her down after. Stein’s status as her father would mean nothing, it would be cancelled out immediately by Medusa and her past deeds. She couldn’t put her daughter in danger. She was the key to everything Medusa had been planning, everything Medusa had fought for, everything she’d carefully laid out to finally have some peace and satisfaction in life. 

Sukina was the first thing that had ever brought Medusa real happiness.

“Give it up Medusa! You can’t run forever!” Maka called, running after her. “Face your crimes! Fight back!”

“This isn’t like her at all, Maka, I don’t like it,” Soul commented, his reflection showing up in the blade of his scythe. “She’s not doing  _ anything  _ except running.”

“I know, Soul, but keep your guard up. Something’s off about her for sure, but we can’t focus on that right now. If we get her down, maybe.”

“Alright,” he replied, disgruntled. 

Maka continued chasing after the witch, running through the crowd after they'd parted for her. She scanned the area as they kept moving, searching for a way to get one step ahead of Medusa. Her eyes widened as she saw an opening, and took a sharp turn into an alley. She reached Soul’s blade outwards and used it to grab onto the rim of a fire escape, pulling herself up and over, and jumping onto the top of the roof. Her legs began to move as soon as the bottom of her shoes touched down on the roof’s shingles, resuming the chase after Medusa. She was a little farther behind now, but she could catch up easily. She grit her teeth and took a deep breath before increasing her pace, sprinting and jumping from roof to roof, looking below at her target fleeing.

Medusa was finally beginning to tire. She hadn’t run like this in years— not this fast, and not for this long. Every breath was a struggle, and she was running out of options. Panic slowly lay over her, and then hopelessness, until she remembered her magic.

She’d already been exposed. There was no use hiding it anymore. If she could fight back and keep them busy, she could try and talk. She could try.

All she’d wanted to do was get eggs, milk, sugar, and butter. Just those four things. Just those four things for a cake, of all things. Of course her soul protect had finally faltered the one day she’d gone out into the public. Of course. 

She felt Maka and her soul encroaching upon her as she ran, taking a moment to notice how strong it had grown in the years since they’d last been around each other. She’d become formidable, no doubt. Medusa’s combat magic was rustier than she liked, but hopefully it was enough to hold her and her Death Scythe off for now. 

The Medusa from ten years ago would scoff if she saw her future self. Running, attempting to conjure her magic, and hoping she could  _ reason _ with her opponent. Pathetic. 

Medusa winced.

She turned to look up at Maka running on the roofs and stopped in an open square, with bystanders moving away to give space for the hunt, and for the fight they felt coming. Maka took her shot and jumped down with a yell, pushing off shingles from a roof with the force of her launch as she pulled back Soul’s blade to take a swing at the witch.

_ Just something simple. Warm yourself up. Keep them back. _

“Vector Plate!” Medusa called, materializing a flat, black arrow above her head, with Maka and Soul only yards away. It was too late for Maka to react or to change her course, and she hit the arrow with a thud before shooting back in the air, thrown fifty yards down the street and hitting the cobble with a grunt of pain.

“MAKA!” Soul yelled. “Maka, are you alright?! Anything broken?” he interrogated, receiving a groan as she used his handle to stand herself up.

She spit onto the cobble and grit her teeth, furrowing her brow and looking dead ahead back at Medusa. “I’m fine, she just caught me off guard. I forgot she could do that,” she muttered, tightening her grip on his handle. She took a deep breath in. “Medusa! Do you surrender, or are you unprepared for us to take your soul?!” she called.

Medusa, fifty yards away, didn’t quite catch everything her hunter yelled at her. Or anything at all, really. Snakes were not known for their hearing, after all, and Maka was too far away from Medusa for anyone in her position to hear anything properly. She waited a moment to see if Maka would repeat what she’d yelled— Medusa assumed it to be important. This was really not the best time for something like this to happen, which of course determined it would occur, as is often the chance criteria for these situations.

“She’s not answering,” Soul commented. “Do you think we’re too far away?”

“How far are we?”

“I dunno, looks like a good bit.”

“Thanks, Soul.”

Medusa stood still for a moment more before making what was probably a poor decision, but the best to try and get to where she needed to be.

She stepped forward and began walking towards Maka and Soul, concentrating and dredging up the magic she’d pushed down. She was calming down and adjusting to the power of her soul again, and she was ready to use it if need be. She took another deep breath and slipped off her jacket, letting it fall onto the ground. If she didn’t die, she could pick it up later. She glanced down at her arms and saw her snake tattoos circling around them, almost in excitement. Her body readjusted to the power of her soul, and she felt it surge in her body. Maka and Soul had watched in shock as Medusa approached them slowly, and they were now within a hundred feet of each other, so conversation was relatively easier than before.

“It’s been a long time, Maka,” she stated solemnly. Crowds watched from a distance.

“Y-you… you witch!” Maka screamed back, standing up and gripping Soul’s handle tightly. “How dare you show your face anywhere, but in Death City of all places!”

“I want to talk! I know as well as anyone my past isn’t pretty to look at, but—” 

“DIE!” Maka shrieked, sprinting towards her target with her rage fueling her.

Medusa’s eyes widened and she grit her teeth, letting two of her snakes leave her body and take full form as she jumped upwards to dodge Maka’s haphazard strike. Two more rushed onto her arms to fill their space, and Medusa flipped mid-air to land on her largest snake’s head, looking down at Maka and Soul.

“How DARE you!” Maka yelled, every thought and memory of Medusa’s torment rushing into her mind after seeing her face. She couldn’t stare closely for too long, with her slitted pupils and eerie yellow irises unsettling her. 

“Listen, Maka! That’s all I’m asking! Listen! I’m not the witch you fought years ago—!”

“BULLSHIT!” Maka braced herself against the road and jumped up to fight Medusa, slicing at her only for Soul’s blade to make contact with another snake flying from Medusa’s arm, being sliced in half by the scythe. “You’ll always be that witch! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull and I don’t care! You think the DWMA’s forgotten what you’ve done?!” she exclaimed, landing on the head of another snake and struggling to retain her balance as it began writhing in an attempt to shake her off. 

Medusa narrowed her eyes and held her ground in the air, watching Maka jump up and down on her snake as it moved and tried to grab her in its mouth, attempting to restrain her.

“Not only reviving the kishin Asura, and trying to destroy the world, but the lasting effects of everything else! CRONA!” she cried, dodging the snake’s advances, furrowing her brow, and jumping up to meet Medusa again. 

Her eyes widened as her first child was mentioned, and the snake she stood on moved out of the way, lower in the air and closer to the ground, giving her a good vantage point as Maka was still falling above. “Vector Arrow!” she yelled, sending an array towards Maka. She whipped around and sliced them with Soul’s blade, landing on a roof a ways way.

“Crona still can’t sleep because they think of you! STILL!” Maka accused, spitting onto the roof she balanced on. “Because you’re a monster, and you need to answer for your crimes!” Soul agreed silently, focusing on bolstering their connection. A resonance was coming. 

Maka screamed once more, launching off of the roof and Medusa gritting her teeth as her snake rushed in to meet her. She conjured another snake, letting the blade clash with the stronger, black scales on this serpent than there were on the last. The third came back down from above, knocking Maka down into the street. Adrenaline that had pumped through Medusa’s veins earlier as fear now recycled through as prowess, and she let loose another battle cry as she herself, surrounded with small vector arrows, jumped from her snake and flipped in the air, letting the vector arrows grow larger as they surrounded her. Maka’s eyes widened, and she rolled away, dodging just in time. The vector arrows uncoiled and straightened, stopping Medusa before she hit the ground and allowing her to stand up in the air. She stared dead ahead at Maka and Soul with a firm gaze as they re-situated themselves.

“That was years ago, and I… I’m sorry,” Medusa apologized, meeting Maka’s gaze.

“Wh..What?” she stammered, blinking. “Soul, did I hear that right?”

“That she said sorry? Shit, Maka, I don’t know if I heard it right.”

“Either way,” she began, quieter to only her husband before erupting, “That doesn’t excuse anything! You still have to pay for what you’ve done!” She grit her teeth and grounded herself, reaching out for Soul’s soul before charging with another yell. “WITCH HUNTER!” she screamed, as Soul’s blade glowed a brilliant white and purple, elongating and transforming into pure energy. Medusa used her vector arrows to catapult herself back into the air and onto the head of her largest snake.

“THEN LET ME PAY!” she replied, annoyance pinching at her nerves before she gripped tightly onto her snake’s head as they dodged a witch hunter attack aimed above, but only narrowly. The force of the attack resounded in the sky and air around, but it wasn’t all in vain, as Medusa took a glance and saw it had grazed the body of her largest snake. Magic was leaking out of it, and the body was beginning to shake. 

“With your soul, sure, witch!” Maka retorted, swinging Soul once again with a yell and sending another pulsing attack outwards. Medusa’s eyes widened and she jumped before the attack made contact with her remaining snakes, as they were caught in the crossfire or moved to shield her with their own forms. She landed roughly on a roof, turning and sliding off before it was blown to bits by another attack. She dropped onto the street and ran to the side of it opposite Maka and Soul, facing them again and summoning vector arrows to give herself more mobility. The adrenaline rush was fading now, but Maka was still fueled by anger, and her resonance with Soul was still strong, apparent by the huge, glowing blade they maintained together. Maka jumped off the roof and stood strongly in the street, looking ahead at Medusa. “Everywhere you go, you cause destruction. You always have, and the academy knows it. You’re a fool if you think anyone would believe an apology of yours,” she proclaimed, standing Soul’s handle upright with his witch hunter blade glowing so close to her body.

“Then I’m not a fool,” Medusa rebutted, furrowing her brow slightly. “I  _ am  _ sorry for what I’ve done, as much as you don’t or don’t want to believe me!” she announced, pain lacing her voice. “But someone in the academy does.”

“W-What?!” Maka exclaimed, gripping Soul tightly and moving into an offensive position. Medusa responded accordingly, her vector arrows ready, and more snakes filling the vacancy on her arms. She didn’t materialize them, but she should have.

“Someone you know and respect, they know and respect me!” Medusa called. “I have a plan, something to make up for everything I’ve done! I'm tired of losing, I’m tired of giving into the primitive chaos of the witches!” she continued, yelling for not only Maka and Soul, but the crowds watching from far away, standing where the fighting hadn’t destroyed the outside market, the shops and booths, and cobblestone pathways. A sliver of hope.

“You’re the Queen of chaos, Medusa,” Maka mocked, readying herself and watching Medusa to make sure she didn’t move. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, if you’re making something up again, but it doesn’t matter!”

“I’m telling the truth! If all I’ve ever told was a lie, this is—!”

“SOUL FORCE!” Maka cried, running up in a sprint and chasing Medusa back against the wall of the building, breaking through her frantic vector arrows and hitting her like a hammer to the chest, sending the energy throughout her body and earning a bellowing scream. Maka stepped back as Medusa fell to the ground, and her vector arrows dissipated. She looked down upon the witch with no pity or remorse. 

Medusa coughed, and propped herself up with her elbows, shaking before coughing up blood onto the street. She looked up at Maka, and fear shot through her system again. Her only option left was to beg. “Please, please— please! Please, Maka, there’s another child, please, talk to Ste—!”

Maka swung Soul down and decapitated her opponent, showing no remorse, but catching those last few words, and the last fraction of one. Soul’s resonance glow finally faded, and Medusa’s body fell back on the pavement with a solid  _ thud  _ as blood splattered, and a purple soul materialized above it. Maka watched her die with a solemn expression, focusing on one thing— Medusa’s face, with tears running down from her eyes. 

“Well,” Maka began quietly. “That’s that, then.” 

Soul transformed back into his human form, notably taller than his wife, and stepped over to the soul floating above the body. He squatted down and picked it up, holding it in his hands and keenly looking it over. He stood up immediately after, disgusted by the sight of the body. He and Maka began walking away from the alleyway, back out into the open plaza. 

“Her body didn’t dematerialize,” he commented.

“I know… it’s odd. Only human bodies are supposed to stay physical after being killed,” Maka answered, puzzled, but shaking it off. Soul did the same, and focused on what he held in his hand.

“It’s weird to think that after everything… she’s finally dead, and we killed her. Her soul is in my hands, and I get to eat it…” he murmured, looking at Maka.

“It is a little strange,” she admitted. “But come on, do you wanna hold it all the way back to the academy or eat it right now?”

He chuckled and popped it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. The pulse of power flowed through him momentarily, and he sighed of contentment. “We can go ahead and go back. I was already the coolest Death Scythe, but now it’s indisputable, eh Maka?” he questioned, nudging her playfully as they began to walk towards the academy. The crowd from the market began to fill back into the space as they clapped and cheered for the Death Scythe weapon pair. 

She giggled. “Of course it is, Soul.”

“I bet Crona’ll be happy to hear the good news,” he noted.

“They definitely will, yeah,” she replied, sighing. “Dad and Stein too, I bet.”

“Oh Stein for sure, you remember all the stuff she did to him? Took him farther off than he already was back then,” Soul grimaced. “He’s been pretty calm the last couple years though… whaddya think that’s about?”

“Well there’s Sukina, she’s surprisingly been pretty good for him, I think… though sometimes I worry about her.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Whether she’s actually his, or if she was adopted, kidnapped or reanimated!” Maka admitted, half-jokingly. Soul burst out laughing.

“She’s definitely his, she’s got that curiosity of his for sure. Just… cuter, and not as morbid, since she’s like what, 7?”

“Eight today, I think, if I remember right,” she recalled.

“Well, we’ll have to tell Stein to tell her happy birthday from us,” Soul decided.

“I suppose we will,” Maka concurred, smiling as she walked with him back towards the academy. Their worries were gone, they’d survived and dominated a fight against Medusa, and they’d taken her soul for the academy, even against all of her snakes.

But somewhere between the alleyways and shadows, something moved in the darkness. The largest snake had recollected what magic remained of itself behind a dumpster, and its sentience was still present. It slithered against the edge of buildings against the market street, located Medusa’s black leather jacket that she had dropped, and snatched it, careful to avoid the foot traffic that had resumed since the fight’s ending. It slinked back into the shadows and vanished, traveling through the darkness to find its new master.

  
  


“Alright, anyone have any questions about Soul classifications? You have a quiz next class on these, don’t forget. It won’t be hard if you know the material,” Stein stated, scanning the class for hands. “Yes, Catalina?” he called on, motioning to a meister sitting with her weapon in the second row of seats. 

“Do we have any updates on Maka and Soul Evans’ fight against the witch Medusa? It’s been a few minutes since the explosions stopped on the west end of town!” she pointed out, and the entire class agreed, erupting into chatter and more questions. When were they coming back? Did they win? What if they hadn’t won? Were they dead? Would someone else go out to fight? Was school cancelled? 

“Everyone settle down!” Stein announced, hitting a book on his desk. “We’ll find out whenever Kid— Death decides to update us on the situation,” he explained, gritting his teeth slightly. The fight was too far away from the academy for him to tell, even with how powerful both Medusa and Maka’s souls were. He almost felt like praying that she’d be alright, and the urge became stronger as he heard the classroom door open.

He turned to look Death straight in the eye. 

Death the Kid had risen to take the place of his father before he’d had his own son, and he’d adjusted well to the position. “Stein,” he addressed. “I’d like to speak with you outside in the hallway for a moment.”

“Lord Death! How did the fight go? Do we know yet?” countless students called out, asking the shinigami.

“All you need to know,” he began, pausing incredulously long before announcing cheerily, “is that class is cancelled for the rest of the day! The witch Medusa is dead!”

The only thing louder than the students’ cheering was the shattering of Stein’s heart as he felt it drop. Reality had claimed his worst fear and made it existent. 

He followed Death outside into the hallway and waited until all of the students flooded out behind him, as well as from other classrooms, screaming and shouting and cheering. It cut him like a knife, and the wound was only deepened as he made eye contact with Soul and Maka standing nearby. They all waited a few minutes until all of the students had cleared, and then they had the audacity to smile at him. 

“Stein, Medusa’s dead! We finally got her!” Maka stated proudly, looking up at him.

“Hell yeah we did! Hell of a fight, even though she seemed kinda out of it,” Soul mentioned, turning towards Stein. He felt his heartbeat quicken with the last phrase, though he hid the attaching emotion from showing on his face. 

“Speaking of which, Stein…” Death began.

_ Shit. _

“Maka told me about some things Medusa said towards the end of the fight.”

_ Shit shit shit shit shit. _

“We’d like to know your thoughts on it.”

What did that mean? Thoughts on what? What did she say? Did she let on about Sukina? They’d talked about that, they knew if they approached that separately it would go horribly wrong, did she go back on that promise?

“She said she wanted to pay for what she’d done, but not with her soul… that she was above the primitive chaos of witches.”

_ Good, not Sukina. Possibly safe _ .

“And that she had made a plan with someone in the academy, and that… there was what, Maka?” Death asked, turning to her.

“ ‘Another child’, she said,” Maka clarified. “And to talk to ‘Ste’… she was cut off, so it’s very likely the name was unfinished.”

_ No no no no _ . 

Deep breath, but not too deep so that they would notice. 

_ Think think think _ .

“Is it possible she was talking about another witch? There’s a bat witch named Stella in the database with loose ties to Medusa, isn’t there? Something vaguely along those lines, if my memory hasn’t failed me,” Stein responded. If the bluff didn’t work, he was in big trouble.

“I think I remember something like that,” Death affirmed. “But there’s still the talk about ‘another child’. What does that mean?”

“Did Medusa have another kid?” Soul put in, pondering.  _ Shit. _

“She may have, or there could be other experiments going on,” Stein suggested. “If Stella is the correct witch, and she had ties to Medusa, she or any other witch could be continuing some sort of black blood experiment.” He paused, preparing himself. “She’s too heartless to care about children, we know this.” 

_ I’m sorry. _

“Agreed. That may be it then,” Maka acknowledged. 

“Good that it’s something easy to handle, at least for the moment,” Death commented, sighing of relief.

“That’s for sure,” Maka agreed. “But speaking of children, Stein, how’s Sukina? Isn’t it her 8th birthday today?” she inquired.

_ They can’t be asking this _ .

“It is, actually, I’m a little surprised you remembered,” he replied, keeping his tone calm and still.  _ They won’t know. They’ll never have to know. _

“Are you kidding? She’s like our biggest fan,” Soul remarked, chuckling. “Or our littlest, really, but not for long, huh?”

Stein forced a small chuckle.  _ Keep it up. Just a little longer. _ “Not for long, no. She’s 8 years old today, that’s correct.”

“Eight years old! Oh, what a wonderful age. Only a little more before she joins the academy, then?” Death surmised.

“Possibly.”

“Being the daughter of the strongest meister ever to graduate from the DWMA, it’s no telling how strong she’ll grow up to be,” Maka complimented. “She’ll be hunting witches much stronger than Medusa in no time, I’m sure of it!” Stein felt the air stop in his throat and choke him, and he could only manage a nod as the rest of the group shared in a soft bout of laughter.  “Well, we’ve got to get home to Emily, tell Sukina happy birthday from us, alright?” Soul requested, putting an arm around Maka. “Spirit’s probably already stopped by if I had to guess, and if Black Star and Tsubaki weren’t on a mission in Malaysia right now, they’d probably ask the same. I know they love her a lot, too.”

Stein nodded again. “Will do.”

Death asked the same, and the group split to leave their separate ways. Maka and Soul left as they’d planned a moment before, Death went back to his office to tidy up before heading home to his son, twin daughters, wife, and Black Star and Tsubaki’s son and daughter, who they were taking care of while their parents were on the aforementioned mission in Malaysia. Stein stood in the hallway for a moment watching them all go, then stepped back into the empty classroom. Once enough time had passed, one of his hands went straight to his head, tussling his hair in between his fingers and frantically turning his screw as he felt things push up from the back of his mind. Panic, fear, and pain were setting in. He fell down in his chair behind his desk and hung his head in his hands. He couldn’t let himself break down here, but he couldn’t fight everything back until he got home. 

He had to have some amount of strength left for Sukina. 

_ She’s… she’s dead. God, she’s really dead, they… they ate her soul…  _

He turned his fingers inward and scratched at the skin on his face, and moved one hand to his hair, tussling in it again and pulling at chunks of it. 

“God… God… God… she’s dead…” he muttered. “I can’t… I can’t…”

_ I can’t tell this to Sukina.  _

_ But I have to. _

_ No I don’t.  _

_ Yes I do. _

“God, fuck it all!” he yelled, standing up in a rush and clearing his desk with his arms. Pens and papers clattered down on the ground, and one pen broke and spilled ink all over the floor. He panted as he leaned over his now-empty desk, and his glasses slowly slid off of his face, falling gently onto the desk. He glanced down at them and collapsed to the floor on his knees, holding his head in his hands and trying to breathe properly. “I’ll figure it out, I’ll figure it out, I’ll figure it out…” he repeated, murmuring as he steadied himself and stood back up, grabbing his glasses and shakily situating them back on his face.

He looked at the mess he’d made and sighed, walking around the side of his desk to pick everything up and put it back. It was odd to see it a mess, as he’d gotten into the habit of keeping it tidy since Marie had visited for the last Death Scythe meeting. She’d talked about how organizing helped her feel like she was still in control of her life, even after her divorce. With two kids, a son younger than Sukina, and her daughter younger than the trio of Death Scythe pairs’ children, he could see how she definitely needed that. Stein managed a smile with the thought as he collected the folders, papers, and pens, since he remembered her delivering the statement in a cheerful way that ended up being humorous. She was very good at saying bad things that way, so they didn’t seem so bad. He wished dearly as he set things back in piles on his desk that he could confide in her right now, but he knew damn well couldn’t do so in anyone.

No one except Sukina, and it was about to destroy her.


	4. Stitched into Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (content warnings): self-harm/body horror, dead body

Stein walked home with the weight of the world on his shoulders, slowing his pace with each step as he trudged down the street. The sky, a light blue, could be black and abysmal for all he cared. The world could end and he wouldn’t mind, as long as Sukina was alright. Stein had managed to conceal his emotions until he got out of the school, but now he couldn’t escape it. He couldn't say a word, or smile at all. All he could do was stare blankly ahead at the horizon as he trudged past every building in town, heading out towards the one he called home. All he could do was stare and think. The only thought that ran through his mind now was the one he hated most, and he couldn't confide in anyone about it, no one except Sukina. But was she even ready for it? She was only eight years old, if barely that.

She’d just turned eight today.

Stein couldn’t bear to think of it. Today was supposed to be a happy day for her, and all he would have to offer was this. It would destroy her. She was just a child. Mature for her age, but maturity would have nothing to do with this. A child was a child.

She was supposed to start at the DWMA soon, but that would have to wait. He’d have to tell her. There was no way around it. She’d have to know, and he’d have to keep her safe.

_ Medusa is dead _ , he thought.  _ Her mother is dead, and I’m going to have to tell her that on her birthday. She’ll have to stay home, she’ll have… she’ll have to stay here, so she’ll be safe _ …

He stepped up to the door and opened it, walking through and closing it behind him as a single tear fell from his eyes. He lifted up his glasses to wipe it from his face, and he took a deep breath. He rubbed his temples and leaned against the wall, trying to prepare himself. How do you even tell that to a kid? How was he supposed to tell that to Sukina? He couldn’t stop thinking about how much she’d cry, if she could understand it or take it in at all. What if it didn’t register? How was he supposed to know what to do? How was he supposed to tell his daughter that her mother was dead?

She couldn’t ever leave the house now, she’d be killed. A young girl would be an easy target, and the DWMA wouldn’t halt their judgement because of her age or her father. Sukina couldn’t leave the house unless Stein was sure it’d be safe. It wouldn’t be safe unless the witch half of her soul stayed dormant, and if it didn’t develop into anything with powers, or magic, or the chaotic instinct underlying every witch’s actions. She wouldn’t be able to fight it at this young of an age, not like Medusa had done. Sukina would be overwhelmed unless nothing ever showed up at all. But he’d have to wait, and she’d have to wait. They couldn’t be sure now. Nothing would be safe for her now.

Possible approaches for the situation plagued his mind, but any attempt at analyzing which would be best just brought up memories that stung like fire. Medusa would have had a plan. She would know what to do. She had always known what to do. From the beginning, she was the one with a plan. Stein just went on instinct, whatever seemed logical was his method.

There was nothing logical now.

  
  


_ “I know this was never part of the plan, but… I’m glad it happened,”  _ Stein murmured, wiggling his finger as his daughter held onto it tightly. _ “She’s got quite a grip.” _

_ “She’s practicing for when she’ll have to be holding onto the staff or handle of a weapon, I bet,”  _ Medusa joked, sitting Sukina up on her lap and bouncing her knee. She gurgled happily, and continued to hold onto her father’s finger. _ “Or maybe she’s practicing a spell,”  _ Medusa added, smiling, while Stein’s expression turned more to concern.

He sat up a little more, and looked down at Sukina as he gently pulled his finger away. She let go, and put her hand in her mouth. _ “Do you think she’ll develop magic?” _

_ “It’s entirely possible,”  _ Medusa replied, turning her around to face her mother. _ “She’s only half, so she may, though I know Crona never did…”  _ she trailed off. A frown wiped away her smile from before.  _ “When she reaches the age where she can train as a meister, and when we finally present our plan to the DWMA… that’s another thing I want to do. I want to apologize to Crona, and see if I can make that right, too… or at least attempt to,”  _ she mulled. 

Stein nodded and wiped off his hand. It was a little moist from when Sukina had grabbed it.  _ “I think you’ll be able to work something out,”  _ he assured.  _ “Crona’s become a lot more sure of themselves over the years, they’re not the same as they used to be.”  _ Medusa nodded, and sighed of relief. Her apology would be easier if that was the case. Stein took comfort in her relief concerning her first child, but he wanted to inquire again about theirs, the child in front of them _. “Medusa, if Sukina develops magic, will you train her? More importantly, will she have to learn to suppress the witch energy, like you did? Will she be able to?”  _ he questioned, a little too quickly. 

Medusa noticed his worry. Glossed over his eyes like a coat of paint, it was hard to miss. _ “Stein, calm down, it’ll be alright. Of course I’ll train her if the need arises, she’s my daughter too,”  _ she reminded, holding Sukina gently with one hand and placing the other on Stein’s shoulder. “ _ She’ll have an easier time since she’s only half witch, if it happens at all, and I’ll help her,”  _ she assured. A moment of silence passed, sobering the both of them, and easing disconcerting thoughts from Stein’s mind. He took a deep breath, and his shoulders fell as he exhaled. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, before placing his left hand over Medusa’s, still resting on his shoulder. He looked at her, then Sukina, and finally back at her. 

_ “Yeah… I guess I’m just worried.” _

_ “I knew that already,”  _ she poked, smiling as he took her hand in both of his, and began rubbing it with his thumb. She stepped closer to him, during which Sukina began to reach out for her father. Stein let go to take her in his arms, looking down at her and feeling a sense of pride. Medusa caught it.  _ “She’ll be one of the best students the academy’s ever had.” _

_ “You think so?” _

_ “The daughter of an extremely powerful witch,  _ and _ the strongest meister ever to graduate from the DWMA? I know so, Stein, give yourself some credit,”  _ she joked, chuckling and caressing her daughter’s small, soft face. _ “She’ll probably take that title from you eventually… and we’ll both be here to see it.” _

  
  


Not anymore.

Stein pulled at his hair in frustration from thinking everything over, from the sting of those memories running through his head now, now of all times! His heart was pumping fervently in his chest, echoing in his ribcage so loud he could hear it. The anxiety had stuck in his throat like a rock, making his breathing rough and heavy. It was a feat to draw in a full breath, and the longer the panic continued the more it grew in intensity. He tried to calm himself down, and put his head in his hands. He felt something trying to push its way into his mind from the back of his head, crawling through a crack in a wall. That wall had been built, cracked, broken to pieces, rebuilt, weathered, and patched up time after time after time, but it would always have a crack in it, one tiny crack somewhere, somewhere between the mismatched bricks and cement, there would always be some opening for insanity to squeeze through like the cockroach it was. Persistent, able to survive off of nothing, and always ready to come back… just when it was presumed to be exterminated.

Stein bit his tongue to draw his attention away, in an attempt to not pay it any mind. He knew it was feeding off the negative emotions circulating through his veins like a poison.  _ Not right now. I’m not letting you in, not ever again and especially not now _ , he decided.  _ I need to be strong for Sukina. I need to. I can’t let this take control.  _ He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, in and out, in and out, in and out. He had to keep still to make sure his heart rate had slowed; he couldn’t risk the adrenaline taking over and lowering down his defenses. He had to stay in control. He kept breathing deeply, and forced his eyes to stay open, to stare at the floor and keep fixating on something simple and unrelated. He kept that up for a few minutes more, feeling himself calm down.

Once he was sure, he slowly took his hands away and blinked a few times, fixing his hair and wiping off his glasses on his lab coat. Some more tears had fallen from his eyes, down his cheeks, and onto the lenses. He hadn’t noticed until now. Letting go of his coat, he set them back on his face and stood up straight from leaning on the wall. He was surprised Sukina hadn’t walked out yet.

“Probably reading,” he murmured to himself, smiling slightly. She did love books. He straightened himself up and stepped down the hallway to Sukina’s room. It used to be a lab room, at one point in time, but he’d converted it not too long after she was born. He reached out his hand, slowly, towards the doorknob. He hesitated at first, but he took one more deep breath and grasped it, turning it and opening the door. He stepped inside and sighed slightly. She was reading after all, and her head perked up as he walked in. A smile spread across her face and she ran over to him, enveloping him in a hug. 

“Dad! D-dad, I’m glad you came home,” she chirped, holding onto him tightly. She gripped his lab coat tightly, and pressed her face against him. He pulled her closer to him in turn. He could tell she knew something was wrong. His heart began to drop as she looked up at him with tears brimming at the edge of her eyes. “Dad… M-mom never came home today… is she okay? Did you see her anywhere?” she whispered, her lips trembling with every word weighing on her heavy little heart. The sudden widening of her father’s eyes gave everything away, and she tugged at his coat even harder as her first tear fell.

“S-sukina… come over here and sit with me on the bed. We have some things to talk about,” he murmured, keeping his voice as still and stoic as he could. There was no doubt she’d break down. He couldn’t afford to do the same. Her heart shattered with those words, and she clung to her father as more tears fell, and he picked her up to sit back on her bed. It was neatly made as always, though Sukina barely disturbed it in her sleep.

Stein set her down by the pillow, and she let go for the most part. She held onto the edge of his sleeve until he sat down, and she grabbed one of his hands. She held it in both of hers, feeling the panic rise and wash over her before her father even began to speak.

“M-mom… mom didn’t get eaten by a k-kishin, did she?” she squeaked, looking up with false hope. Stein almost wanted to say yes to that. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, that the people she had learned to trust and look up to had killed her mother. The people he worked for. But he had to reveal the truth, as much as it weighed on his conscious and would no doubt weigh on hers. He couldn’t withhold it any more. He and Medusa had planned to tell her once any powers showed up, if they did, or when they felt she was ready. Ready or not, he had no choice but to tell her now.

“No, she didn’t, but… she _ is _ dead, Sukina. Your mother was killed by the DWMA.”

“W-What? N-no, Dad, th-that can’t be true, th-they—”

“It’s true, Sukina.”

“N-no! Why would they—”

“It’s because she was a witch,” he answered, clenching his jaw and his hands, and hanging his head. He didn’t need to look up to know Sukina was crying. Her tears were streaming down her face, dripping off her chin onto the bed, and onto his hand, clutching her blankets in an effort to stay calm.

“A w-witch?” she stammered, sniffling.

“One of the most powerful witches there was,” he clarified, mustering the mental strength to turn and look his daughter in the eyes. She was shaking like an earthquake. He didn’t blame her— her entire world being torn apart wasn’t exactly something to be taken lightly. He reached out his arms and pulled her onto his lap to hold her and stroke her hair. She immediately buried her face in his shoulder and cried, and he did his best to comfort her. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was a mess, and he knew she would become one. She was a blessing to him, and he felt enormous guilt for not being able to do what a regular father could. He was insane. He shouldn’t have ever been a father. He didn’t know what to do.

But he had to do something.

In the scrambled mess of his thoughts and his emotions he desperately needed to keep in check, all that made sense was to tell her everything.

“She didn’t exactly have the cleanest history with the academy. Years ago, before you were born, she attempted to raise a full kishin, the kishin Asura I told you about, actually, a couple weeks ago in our lesson… and sh-she succeeded. I fought her when that happened, and I thought I’d killed her… but she got away somehow. We eventually defeated the kishin…. Mr. and Mrs. Evans, Mr. Black Star and Mrs. Nakatsukasa, and… his name used to be Death the Kid, but Lord Death now, they all defeated the kishin as students,” he explained, speaking softly. He felt her nod. He stroked her hair a few times before continuing.

“Your mother used to fight against the academy, trying to bring chaos like every other witch… but after some time, she rose above that. She pursued me for months and months, trying to tell me she’d changed, or at least became willing to work with us. I didn’t believe her at first, but she had a plan, and it was a good one. She’d work with the academy to find other witches on their wanted list to pay for her grievances, and we weren’t sure when we’d try to put that plan into effect… until we had you, Sukina,” he finished, resting his head against hers, just for a moment, and holding her tighter. He relaxed after a moment and took a deep breath. “Once you started school, we would introduce your mother, and the plan, and hope for the best… but we can’t do that anymore.”

“W-was that why m-mom had to leave on trips, and go far away sometimes? But never in the city?” Sukina questioned timidly, slowly looking up. Stein nodded solemnly.

“Her soul is too strong not to be noticed. She usually had something on all the time, a spell called Soul Protect. It’s something that witches use to disguise their souls and make them look like human souls.” He paused, glancing down. “She had to use it constantly… and it faltered and failed her at the worst time,” he murmured, the words sticking in his throat. “A-as far as I know, from what I heard out at the school, she was getting some food, and Maka and Soul went to hunt her down… a-and succeeded.”

“M-mr. and M-mrs. Evans k-killed mom?” she stuttered. 

Stein nodded again. “They did… and although soul protect didn’t work for her, it’ll have to work for you. You’ll need to start using it as you get older, Sukina, if you’re able.”

“W-what do you mean?” she asked, pulling away. 

“Your mother was a witch, and that means you’re part witch… there’s no telling if you’ll develop magic or not, but we c-can’t be too careful,” he responded, becoming firmer in his tone. He couldn’t lose her too. It would destroy him. This was all he could think of to keep her safe, to just keep her home, where no one could hunt her down without his knowing. Where he could prevent that from happening entirely. “You won’t be leaving the house anymore, Sukina, not unless it’s with me, and it won’t be for going anywhere into the city. Not until you turn 16. If you do have any powers… they’ll show up by then. Until we figure out if you have any or not, you’re not allowed to leave the house, like I said.”

Sukina’s eyes widened. “What?! D-Dad no, please, why not?!” she exclaimed, tugging at his coat. Although her tears had slowed as they’d talked, they began falling again like droplets of a downpour. She couldn’t stay inside forever. This wasn’t her fault. “Why can’t I leave anymore?!”

“Because otherwise you’ll be killed, Sukina!” Stein fired back, standing up, with tears brimming on the edges of his eyes. Sukina cowered back, letting go of his lab coat and scooting away on the bed. “The academy didn’t know or care that your mother had changed, and they won’t care if you’re innocent, either! The only way you’ll be able to leave is if you’re lucky enough to not develop any powers at all. That way, you can just pretend to be human like everyone else, and we won’t have t-to… to worry about you being… killed… too…” he faltered out, falling back on the bed and holding his head in his hands. He took in deep, shaky breaths and ran his hands through his hair, fighting back the urge to pull it all out. He moved his hands from his hair to his face, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead, and continuing to take deep breaths. He promised himself he wouldn’t snap, but there was no going back now. Still breathing in and out, he looked up at his daughter with regret, sorrow, and pity. She shook as their eyes met, biting her lip to hold herself back from sobbing. Shock had done a number on her already. Stein shook his head. “S-sukina, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for yelling, I’m sorry for everything,” he apologized. “N-none of this is your fault… none of it… but it’s your reality now,” he murmured, standing up and putting his glasses back on. “I’m sorry.”

Sukina continued to sit there on her bed as he turned away, stepping across her floor and walking to the door. He stood there for a moment as his hand rested on the doorknob, wanting to say something else, to say one more thing to try and ease her sorrow and pain. But nothing came to mind. He hung his head and left, to go to his room and try to calm down.

Only then, after he’d closed the door, did he remember that it was her birthday.

  
  


Neither of them slept that night. Sukina sat in her room in shock, her thoughts running a million miles an hour in her head, and her throat turning dry from how much she was crying. The tears came down endlessly, soaking a spot on her lap, and the edge of her chin they dripped off of. Her heart palpated in odd rhythms, and her body shook in small shivers. She thought back to all the odd instances she remembered with her mother, all the odd comments her mother and father made, or the odd answers to questions they would have rather avoided. Everything clicked, everything made sense. Her mother’s nervous or awkward reactions whenever Sukina talked about Maka and Soul Evans, or hunting witches, or anything, it didn’t seem out of place anymore. Even her mother’s affinity for snakes made sense. She’d heard things off-handedly whenever she’d visited the academy, about an infamous snake witch that revived the first kishin, but she never put the pieces together enough to know that was her  _ mother _ . 

Her mother had almost caused the end of the world, and then raised her, without ever giving it away. Sukina pulled at her face. The terror of that thought shook her to her core, and churned her stomach.

She lived her entire life with a witch. A witch, an unbridled force of chaos, and she’d held Sukina in her arms, kissed her gently on the head, and tucked her (albeit haphazardly) into bed. The thought made her sick, though she didn’t know why. The concept just wasn’t registering, it wasn’t making sense, and trying to imagine her mother as the very thing she was destined to hunt as a meister seemed impossible. It wasn’t, but the dissonance between her past reality, her reality for her whole life up until this evening, and her new reality? It was too much to process. Trying to merge the two perspectives into one wasn’t successful, unless causing a throbbing headache counted as successful. Sickly sweet nausea crept up from the back of her throat as she ran thoughts over and over in her mind. It lingered in the back of her throat as she continued pondering her mother’s existence. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, Sukina felt her stomach drop like a pit as she remembered the other side of this. Her mother was a witch, which meant she was a witch too. 

Nausea rushed farther and faster up her throat than expected, and Sukina bolted out of her room, down the hall just slightly, and into the bathroom. The door was open, and she jerked up the toilet seat just in time for the entire contents of her stomach to force themselves back up, with a sickening splash in the bowl. Shivers ran down her body as she retched up vomit and bile, finally finishing with the acidic, sour taste throughout her mouth.

She backed away from the toilet, sitting for a moment to breathe before standing up. She got up, turned on the lights, stood by the stink and washed out her mouth, gargling water and spitting it out. She washed that down the drain, and turned to look at the toilet. With a grimace, she closed the seat and flushed, grabbing her head. Tears had stopped when she ran from her room, but they resumed again, and it wasn’t welcomed. Sukina turned the water back on and grabbed a cup she kept on the counter, filling it up with water and drinking. It eased the dryness in her throat somewhat, so she kept drinking and refilling the cup until she felt quenched. The tears finally stopped, and she took a deep, but shaky breath. 

Sukina peeked her head out into the hallway, looking and listening for her father, but with no luck. She wasn’t sure whether to consider that a good or a bad thing. She stepped carefully off of the tile onto the smooth cement, the cool touch of it tingling in her toes. She waited and listened one more time for any shuffling, pacing, or other noises that might alert her of her father’s presence, but nothing sounded, from anywhere in the lab.

Sukina furrowed her brows, confused, but turned off the lights in the bathroom and tiptoed back to her room, still cautious. She caught a glance of the clock on her desk, and suddenly things made sense. It was midnight. Several, several hours had passed since the news first broke her, lost in tears and in thought, and now, her headache didn’t seem as unreasonable. After she closed her door, she lay down on her bed, curled up and clutching her pillow, and thought. 

She knew she’d been doing too much of that, reminded by her headache throbbing at the back of her neck and on the sides of her head, but it was all she could do.

“Mom was a witch,” she murmured to herself, tightening her grip on her pillow and pursing her lips. “I’m a witch,” she added, her voice faltering towards the end in a squeak. “Part… witch,” she whispered. The clarification made her feel a little better, but not by much. Envisioning the awful, terrifying power that encompassed the idea of a Witch and all that they were, and pinning that to the idea of her mother and now herself was still mind boggling.

But she was still human. Partly. Partly, at least, she reminded herself, and brought her left hand up to her face to look at it. She stretched and curled and bent her fingers, her eyes following their movements. They were such simple things, looking at them, but Sukina knew they were much more complex. Tissues and tendons and muscles and bones, layers of skin and blood vessels, all neatly and compactly arranged in these tiny extensions of her body. 

She gazed at them for several minutes. It was calming, creating small gestures with a small part of her body. The immediate assurance of control eased her, and she almost felt sleep beginning to embrace her. But once she became bored with her hand, she sat up, her legs hanging over the edge of her bed, and her feet and toes connected to them.

The fact that it was October meant nothing to the Nevada climate of death city, and Sukina wore shirts to accommodate that. She could see her entire leg, from her thigh to her knees to her shins and calves, and ankles right as her feet connected. She pointed her toes and moved her foot around in a circle, rotating her ankle and wiggling her toes. She smiled, a little too much, then did it again and even giggled.

It was a hollow, empty sound.

Sukina let go of her pillow and hopped off the bed, twirling around in a circle, shaking her arms up and down and jumping from one foot to another, watching her body move and envisioning every muscle at work. Her giggling turned into laughter as her mind went blank, thinking only of the beauty of anatomy, and how wonderfully all these little things inside her worked. 

Then she tripped. She tripped over the book she’d dropped on the floor when she’d run to her father, after he first opened her door, and she stumbled, falling down on the ground on her knees, and then her elbows and forearms. Her laughter stopped, and she turned to look at the book. She snatched it from the ground, her breathing quicker and agitated. She scanned the front cover for the title. Mary Shelley’s  _ Frankenstein _ . 

“How funny,” she commented dryly. She stood up with the book and looked at it, anger bubbling back up inside her. She grit her teeth and threw it against the wall, her eyes catching how her arm moved, how her fingers twisted and bent to perform the action, and her eyes widened. The feeling of her mind going blank returned, but not quite the same as before. An urge rose from the back of her head, and she turned towards her door. She pushed it open just slightly, listening again for any signs her father was awake. A few minutes passed with nothing, and she stepped out into the hallway. She walked down to the end of it, where the door her parents’ (now just her father’s) room stood on the left, and the door to a lab room stood on the right. There were others in the house, but this was the closest.

She glanced to the left, and then turned her head fully in surprise. The door was wide open, and no one was inside. She couldn’t resist looking in, and her father was nowhere to be found. He didn’t seem to be anywhere else in the house. And while that should have worried Sukina, it did the opposite. It comforted her in a sick way, spurring her on and emboldening her to continue with the malicious idea that had planted itself in her head. 

She rushed out and into the lab room, her eyes darting around the tables and shelves madly to locate supplies. She was familiar enough with what she needed and how to use it— she’d been practicing with fun little dissections she’d done with her father for a few years now. Things were scattered about in the workspace, but she spotted what she needed and snatched it. Scalpels, gauze, scissors, surgical string, syringes, and bottles of various anesthetics— she grabbed them all, as much as she could fit in her arms, and tiptoed back out the door. She closed it as best she could just out of caution, skipped down and across the hall, and snuck back into her room with her heart pounding in her chest. She cleared off her desk and set everything down that she’d stolen, looking at it and feeling a new rush of adrenaline. 

Instinct took over as she reached for a syringe and a bottle of anesthetic with her left hand, and she gently placed her other hand on her cheek. Her mind raced thinking of where to cut first, until her eye looked down at where her hand rested, and a wicked grin spread across her face. Her hollow, horrifying laughter echoed in her ears as she began.

  
  
  


Stein shuffled his grip on the bodybag he carried with both arms, watching shadows dance on the walls of buildings he ducked behind. There wasn’t much street traffic at three in the morning, but caution never hurt. Especially now. If he was caught, he could face punishment as severe as Medusa, whose body he now carried.

He was right about what happened, but he dearly wished he hadn’t been.

As he made his way out of the city, in between alleyways and apartments, watching out for drunks, he caught himself glancing at the bag, and the way it slumped, its contents jumbling if he stopped suddenly. He quickly tore away his gaze from it, but it never lasted long. The uneasy feeling in his stomach wouldn’t subside either way.

Tonight was the first in years he’d experienced nausea looking at a body. It wasn’t the decapitation, or discoloration of the skin as remaining blood pooled at the underside of the body, or the rigor mortis. It was her face, seeing her eyes glazed over and milky, and her lips stiff and pale, and her fingers tensed, no doubt from her last fighting moments.

Bodies were just so much easier when he didn’t know who he was working on. 

Years ago, when Mira Naigus fervently pounded on his door at around the same time as now, he’d groggily walked over and pulled it open, only to be sharply woken up by the sight of one of his close friends dead in her arms. A statue sticking out of his forehead, and his heart no longer beating. He’d let Mira carry him inside the lab, tears in her eyes as she let go of shaky breaths, and he’d worked through the night, the next day, and the next night, unsure if he could really cheat death as she — and Lord Death himself — had asked. Looking at the lifeless face of his friend, especially as he worked around the gaping hole in his forehead and skull underneath, had brought on several waves of nausea he didn’t like to recount.

Even with that discomfort, the operation concluded as a success, with Lord Death’s blessing and the possession of Sid’s soul, and Sid was alive, if undead counted in that way. Only days later, after Stein sleepily agreed to help with some remedial lessons for the academy and recuperated from the exhaustion of a 30 hour operation, did he meet part of the group of students that would go on to defeat the kishin. And a day after that, he became their teacher.

Fond memories didn’t last very long as Stein kept moving, and the bag thumped against his legs. He cringed, feeling Medusa’s head and the stump of her neck poke out as a lump in the shape of the bag, and pushing the thought away. He spotted the beginning of Hook Cemetery, and knew that not much further down would be the pathway to his lab. He glanced nervously around, then drew in a deep breath, focused, and checked for souls one last time. None. He saw just his own, glowing a soft blue.

A few minutes more of walking. Each footstep felt heavier and heavier as he continued, then heaved to shift his grip, and held the bag directly in his arms instead of by the handles, pulled taught from the trek back from downtown.

_ She became more human by suppressing the chaos in her soul _ , he thought, gritting his teeth. He’d suspected it as soon as he accepted her death, and thought about how her soul had changed. Witches normally disintegrated when killed, leaving only the soul, while humans’ bodies stayed behind. Medusa was no human, but acting like one had changed her, so her body stayed behind, as gruesome as it was.

Stein stopped at the door and looked up at the moon as it grinned wildly, and then away at the other, more solemn parts of the night sky. Stars dappled it like a canvas, and they twinkled with a soft light that would have brought out a smile on his face days before. 

He brought his head back down and shook it, looking ahead at the door and preparing himself to move quietly. Hopefully Sukina was asleep by now, or at least calmed down. He’d left hours ago, not too long before midnight, praying his suspicions were wrong and he could return home quickly, but of course that couldn’t be the case. He let go of a heavy sigh and turned his back to the door, momentarily balancing the weight of the body bag on one arm to turn the door handle with the opposite hand. It clicked open, and he pushed inside, bringing the hand back to support his package. 

Sukina heard the click, and the shuffling of feet as her father trudged inside, and jolted upright in her seat at her desk. She quickly snipped the end of the thread she’d pulled through her skin, and sat still mulling over what to do. Her breath stuck in her throat as the heavy footsteps edged nearer, but she relaxed when she heard another sound. It relaxed her only because it seemed out of place, ironically, and an intense curiosity overcame her. It sounded like… fabric? Not quite. It wasn’t cloth, perhaps plastic? A bag?

She glanced at the door uneasily, but took off her gloves, slipped off her chair, and tiptoed towards the door. She did so carefully and lightly, easy in socks on a concrete floor, albeit with a carpet in between. The last few steps she slid slightly, creeping up to the door with her heart echoing steadily in her chest. Why had her father gone out? And why so long? She cracked the door just enough to peer out, and glimpsed her father walking down the hallway with… a body bag. Unmistakably. 

Her heart dropped. Witches weren’t supposed to leave bodies when killed. Learning about soul types from her father, she knew that much. Her head began to spin with questions, but she stiffened as Stein drew closer, and she saw an opening growing wider near the bottom of the bag. The material was frayed in areas, and the pressure of actual weight wasn’t helping. As Stein passed Sukina’s door, her line of sight intercepted directly with the hole in the bag, and the cloudy, glazed yellow of her mother’s eye. Pale, discolored skin surrounded it, only contrasted by the dark red stain of blood.

It startled her, freezing her in place as she made eye contact with her— no… it. Her mother was gone, and the shallow shell that remained behind burned into her gaze, down into her soul, and shook her. Her hands flew to her mouth to stop a scream as she noticed her mother’s hand directly behind her hair, and the way her neck continued down, only to stop suddenly, and create a stumpy protrusion in the bottom of the bag. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from any of it as the horror coursed through her system. Her father, unknowing of her spying, noticed the opening in the bag and let out a grunt of surprise. 

“Shit,” he muttered, taking a few more steps before stopping, far enough away from Sukina’s door that she could finally turn away. She listened as he readjusted how he carried the bag, and fell to the ground against the door as he finally slipped into the lab room at the end of the hall. Her door closed from the weight of her body pressing against it, and she jumped as she heard a click, praying her father hadn’t. A few moments passed in silence before she exhaled shakily. She pulled her hands away from her mouth, now moist and clammy from her nervous breaths. The image of her mother’s dead eyes still pierced her thoughts, and several minutes passed before she gripped the door handle and stood up.

She looked around her room, her eyes darting around from one shadow to the next, and stopping at a cup of water she’d set on the top of her desk. She pursed her lips as she realized how dry her throat was, and she stepped over, grabbed the cup, and drank, leaving just over an inch to drink with pills later. 

She busied herself quietly, cleaning up her workstation for the time being, and occasionally running her hand over her cheek, as well as the line of stitches that accented it. They stung. The local anesthesia’s effects faded more and more as time went on, but Sukina had also stolen plenty of painkillers.

She kept an ear out for anything from down the hall, but the sounds she did hear were faint. Once she finished cleaning up her desk, her bloody face, and her instruments, she paused. Just to hear anything of significance. Nothing except vague murmurs and shuffling. She glanced at her door again, and walked over, then crept out into the hallway. She spotted the lab door cracked open, no doubt from her father forgetting to close it all the way on his way in, and her heart skipped a beat. Whether it was anticipation or fear, she didn’t care to decide. She walked along the edge of the wall, stopping at the door. She let go of a quiet sigh of relief, that the opening was on the right side of the door, and that she wouldn’t have to cross it to peek inside. She waited a moment, readying herself, and looked.

Stein had begun work nearly immediately. Medusa’s body lay on a metal table, with her head set near the top of her body, but still visibly disconnected. Surgical thread and needles lay nearby in a tray, the thread brand new. 

_ I stole the open spool _ , Sukina recounted.  _ The last one in that package, too… he must have had to open a new box.  _

Stein milled around the table, pulling out supplies Sukina knew well, along with things she’d never seen before. A large bottle labeled ‘Embalming Fluid’, and various others of differing colors. She watched him work, and couldn’t look away. The swift, steady movements both captivated and sickened her, watching the scalpel cut her mother’s pale flesh, and eyeing the system flushing out blood and replacing it with a mixture of the assorted liquids. Minutes passed, and then several more, and it had been an hour before Sukina could finally shift her stare. She blinked her eyes and pulled away from the door, sitting against the wall. She rubbed her eyes and carefully stood up, glancing at the cracked door one more time before she made her way back to her room, solemnly and silently.

The experience jarred her thought, and her mind emptied itself again from the stress. She moved without paying attention, methodically walking in, closing her door behind her, and looking blankly ahead. She unscrewed the lock on the container of pills, and drank the rest of her water with several. She took a breath, and paused, turning to look at her window.

It was still dark outside. The sun wouldn’t be rising for a while, and exhaustion finally laid on her shoulders. Sukina turned to look at the clock on her desk, reading 5:17 am. She had plenty of time to sleep, if she was able. She wouldn’t be going anywhere anyways. 

With a heavy breath, she turned to her bed and walked over, climbing on it and curling up. She grabbed a pillow to wrap her arms and legs around, and turned to face the wall after she shuffled under her covers. 

A memory flashed in her head once she pulled the comforter over her shoulders, of her mother pulling it over her instead. A gentle smile graced her lips, and her eyes shone a warm yellow in the dim light of Sukina’s room.  _ “ _ _ καληνυχτα _ _ ,”  _ Medusa bid, wishing her daughter goodnight in Greek _.  _ Sukina’s eyelids began to droop. _ “ _ _ όνειρα γλυκά _ _ … Sweet dreams, Sukina,”  _ she added, with a tenderness that made Sukina’s heart ache.

The weight of loss encompassed her once again.

Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes, and she collapsed into quiet sobbing.

  
  
  


The next few days passed in a blur. Stein buried Medusa after cleaning and preparing her body, then cleaned up himself and went on to teach without sleep, but with several cups of coffee throughout the day. He came home without seeing Sukina, and passed out until the next morning. The days after fell victim to routine, with two evenings spiced up by a bottle of vodka, or several bottles of beer, and the following mornings both bringing nasty hangovers.

Sukina avoided her father during the week when he was home, regardless of whether he was conscious, sober, or neither. If they ate, they fixed their meals independently, and didn’t cross paths until early Saturday afternoon, after Sukina had performed another surgery on her leg, and Stein had finished off the alcohol in the house the night before. 

He sat in a different lab room from the one recently used, to clear his head and process the guilt piling up on his shoulders as he thought about his daughter. He rubbed his hands over his face and his temples, pushing up his glasses, and then pushing them off his face. They fell onto his lap, then off the chair he stretched back in, and onto the floor with a small clatter. He spread apart his fingers to peer down at them, and let go of a groan. He waited a moment, a headache pounding in his ears and fighting his urge to move or do anything. After a minute or so, he dropped his hands and slowly sat up, then reached down to the floor to grab his glasses. He looked them over for any cracks or scratches, and found none, thankfully. He lounged back in the chair again as he cleaned them, and thought about Sukina. 

Guilt plagued his mind, laced with resentment. Not for Maka and Soul, or Lord Death or the Academy, but for himself. He’d always worried about Medusa being targeted, even if their plan had survived long enough to be put into effect when Sukina began school. Endless ways to bring about her end, in every day and every action, had always hung in his thoughts like a sinister fog. Maybe it was depression, or just pessimism, but her death didn’t weigh as heavily on him because he’d expected it. He’d even seen it once before, brought about by his own hands. It really was no surprise. He resented himself for that.

What had their relationship been? Partners in a business agreement, with physical tension and attraction. That much was for sure. Then parents? Of a family? No.

He didn’t dare elevate them to that in his mind, but was it that far from the truth?

They created a child together. They both saw themselves in her, and became drawn up in an elaborate act of playing house. For Sukina’s sake, they played ‘mother’ and ‘father’, but their roles imposed on reality, and soon the two were indistinguishable. 

Stein had realized it sooner, when Sukina began to speak, and Medusa found herself elated teaching Sukina words. Her first were not exactly as adorable as expected, with both adults quickly learning not to say “Shit” and “Fuck” quite so often around the house. But after a while, they were mostly replaced with “Mom”, “Dad”, “Book”, and “Knife”. As grateful as he was, it still puzzled Stein that Medusa acted so differently with Sukina than she had with Crona, especially compared to when he first met the both of them. When she realized, she suggested the resemblance. With blonde hair, and striking warm eyes, albeit orange instead of yellow, they looked so similar. And beyond that, she knew Sukina’s soul would be strong. The plan rested on Sukina proving herself to the academy, enough to persuade grace for her mother. Medusa felt compelled to ensure her safety, and even expressed excitement about training her once she grew older. And that turned into love. Almost a normal, motherly bond.

Stein’s connection came from his human empathy. It surprised him, when he felt drawn to such a small, fragile thing. But Sukina was a baby, a child,  _ his  _ child, and it was his responsibility to protect her. As she grew, and her mind began to develop, that’s when he was hooked. He taught all day at the academy, and taught her at home. Math, science, and anything about weapons, meisters, kishins, and witches. She absorbed knowledge like a sponge, asking questions constantly, and finding a love for dissection. All of that was their time together, as father and daughter. 

Stein’s resentment returned after he ceased dwelling on the past. His resentment for being so hopeless about Medusa’s fate, and now, for Sukina’s.

He hadn’t seen her in  _ days _ . Medusa was killed on Tuesday. It was Saturday now, and he hadn’t caught a glimpse of Sukina since he broke her with the news.

She had seen him, but he wasn’t aware of that.

His self loathing stemmed from inadequacy. As strong as he was in combat, he was not emotionally attuned. He could adjust his soul wavelength so well to so many different partners because there was never anything to mix. He absorbed other’s personalities and exchanged nothing. No compassion, just cooperation. And now what? He couldn’t comfort himself, much less anyone else. He’d drank through bottle after bottle because he didn’t want to be aware of Sukina sitting alone. He was selfish, and sick in the head, and he couldn’t do anything a normal father should. Could he even call himself a father, behind technicality?

A rumbling stomach finally pulled him from his thoughts and mutterings. 

He sat up in his chair and adjusted his glasses on his face, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips as he realized how dry his throat was. “Something to eat and something to drink, then,” he murmured, standing up and walking out of the room. 

He walked down the hallway and out into the main room, empty until he stepped into it. He frowned slightly, hoping to see Sukina. “Must be in her room,” he deduced, then stepped over to the fridge to grab something to drink, and see what might be inside to eat. He felt like a sandwich, or something else low-effort. He pulled open the door and looked inside, finding some sliced ham, cheese, and a carton of orange juice, among other things. He grabbed the orange juice and held it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, and set it on the counter. It was almost empty, and he could pour what was left into a glass to finish it off. 

He took the ham and cheese and closed the fridge door, turning to the counter to pour himself a glass. As he did so, he heard small footsteps coming from the hallway, and perked up slightly.  _ Sukina _ , he thought, and his lips turned upwards just slightly, almost in a smile.  _ I can say something now. Something, just to make things a little better _ , he hoped.

He backed up from the counter and held the glass of orange juice in one hand, turning to look at Sukina, and he froze.

His eyes widened. The first thing he spotted was the stitches on her face, still red, puffy, and blistery around the edges. The cut was sloppy, and the stitches uneven, some too tight in areas, and seeing it all hit him like a train. He dropped his glass in shock, and the sound of it shattering against the floor startled the both of them more.

Sukina stepped back with an empty plate in her hand, no doubt from her lunch or breakfast. She didn’t say anything, but as she moved Stein saw another incision on her leg, and his breath tightened. His lips trembled and his hands shook, his heart palpating as all the guilt from before returned tenfold. He felt the ground pulling him down, his knees shaky, but he didn’t move. Sukina glanced at the glass, broken in pieces on the ground within the orange juice, and then looked slowly up at her father.

“S-Sukina, I—” he stammered, the words quiet, and stuck in his throat. “Y-you… you…” he mumbled, undone. 

She obliged him with a sad, empty stare for a few moments, then blinked, and stepped around the glass to put her plate in the sink. She ran the water for a bit, turned it off, and navigated back around the glass. Stein watched her, helpless as he shook.

_ She’s tearing herself apart… Just like I did… J-Just… Just like I did… _ he thought. 

“Sukina, wait, I—”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she broke in, quiet and gravelly, and turned away from him. She stopped when she replied, but looked down for a moment, and then walked back towards her room.

Stein fell to his knees, some of the glass pressing against the legs of his pants, with his head in his hands. “God damnit,” he muttered, pushing his glasses off his face and hearing them clatter on the floor among the shards of glass. He pulled at his hair and grabbed at his forehead. “God damnit god damnit god damnit!” he whisper-yelled, his lungs straining to make any words at all.  _ I let her do this. It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault! _

He continued pulling at his hair, his breathing erratic and heavy, and with his heartbeat pounding in his ears.  _ It’s my fault! _

_ If I wasn’t such a fucking failure I would’ve done better, if I wasn’t fucked messed up she wouldn’t have gotten messed up too! _

His breathing shook as more destructive thoughts ran through his mind, but he managed to open his eyes and pull his hands away from his face. He tried to steady his breathing, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, but it was hard, and everything was still shaky. Soon the sensation of the glass pressing into his legs began to register, and that helped, although it was hard standing up. He first set his hands down where glass had scattered, and after cursing under his breath, steadied himself from another point. He grabbed his glasses as well, and decided to fold them up in a lab coat pocket for the time being, since they kept falling off. He heaved a heavy sigh and looked blankly back at the cheese and sandwich meat he’d grabbed from the fridge. 

He would give her time. He knew that was what she needed. What’s done was done, and he didn’t possess enough power to intervene in the right way, in the way she needed.

  
  


Even though it wasn’t what he would have wanted most, it worked as well as anything could in this situation. After a few more days, and a few meals and other things left out for Sukina, they finally interacted again, and it was much sweeter and better received. 

They stood together in the main room, and they held each other in tender embrace for so long they lost track. Sukina cried into his shoulder and he held her close, gently stroking her back as he knelt on the ground. When she got everything out, they sat on the couch and talked, and Stein fixed a few cups of tea for them to drink. They apologized to each other, though it was mostly Stein, and they pondered about what the future might hold. He emphasized that Sukina’s safety came first, as hard as it would be, and she reluctantly agreed. She woefully sipped her tea, but her father assured her there would still be opportunities to leave the house, albeit not in the city, and only accompanied by him. She was likely to be a meister after all, and the sooner she began training, the better, especially since she wouldn’t be joining the academy as early as the both of them would have liked.

“But what if I get witch powers? What happens then?” she asked, turning her glance from the rim of her mug to her father’s tired eyes.

He paused before answering. “Let’s hope that we don’t have to answer that question,” he dodged, choosing his words carefully. He managed a smile, and rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright, Sukina.”

If only that were true.

  
  
  


Sukina pulled the needle through her skin, tying the suture closed with a knot and snipping off the rest of the string. For now, her leg would be a little limp, but the anesthesia would wear off soon. She hadn’t used too much. This procedure marked five years, cutting herself apart and stitching everything back together in a sick way of coping. It helped with her destructive urges, but not very much with her bodily health. Oh well.

To be fair, she’d gotten much better at it, and was considering redoing some of her earlier dissection surgeries. The stitches on her face, on her right cheek, were tight and uneven in places to begin with. The same could be said for other early procedures, but she’d also grown since then. Thirteen years old as of October, and it was January now, so almost thirteen and a half. Almost five and a half years kept inside, except for the nights Sukina now lived for.

When she and her father had celebrated her birthday back in October, she’d felt something strange after blowing out the candles on her cake, blinked, and as she took a deep breath, her heart stilled. She slowly looked towards her father and saw a massive blue soul, and it startled her so much it knocked her out of her chair. Stein rushed to help her up, inquiring what was wrong, and she told him. His eyes widened, and then his lips did in a smile, and he picked her off the ground in his arms, managing to hold her and twirl her around in excitement.

“ _ You’re a meister!” _ he cried, smiling, and making her laugh as he continued spinning around. “ _ You saw my soul, you’re a meister, Sukina!”  _ After a moment or two, they finally calmed down, both grinning wide, and they cut each other pieces of cake. It was a small one, perfect for two people with a little extra just in case. Chocolate on the inside, with vanilla icing and cut strawberries on top. Stein hadn’t made it, he’d bought it, but that didn’t make it any less special. As they ate, he asked another question.

“ _ Can you see your own soul, Sukina?”  _

_ “I… I think so. Let me try,”  _ she requested, and closed her eyes, focusing and drawing on the lingering feeling from before. Her father’s soul was hard to ignore, enveloping hers at this proximity, but she found hers. It wasn’t nearly as big, but it was larger than she thought, and an interesting thing to look at. It appeared blue, human, but the image shifted from moment to moment, purple hints glazing over it, and at times, appearing solidly as splatter-like patterns. Sukina opened her eyes with a deep inhale, pulling herself away from the feeling. That time left her with a bit of fatigue, taking energy. Stein assured her it was likely from it being her first intentional sensing of souls, and soon enough it would take no more energy than breathing.

After they finished their cake and Sukina opened a few presents, Stein told her of another present he couldn’t wrap in a gift— a last-minute one, admittedly. Since it was confirmed she was a meister, they would both leave the house for a training session the following weekend, when he could afford to be out all night with her. She jumped out of her chair with joy, hopping up and down and hugging him tightly. He gently hugged her back, a soft smile on his face. “ _ Thank you!! Thank you thank you thank you!”  _ she squealed with delight, more excited for that than any of the new books she’d received. 

The following weekend, they left the house in athletic clothes, which was a little odd, since Sukina barely saw her father without his lab coat. Although she wasn’t exactly one to talk, since she often sported one as well, now.

The first part of the training was walking out to their training spot, through the desert. They left after sundown, and the desert cooled dramatically at night. After walking for what seemed like miles, her father asked her to climb a mesa with him.

_ “WHAT?!”  _ she squeaked.

“ _ Oh it’s not that bad, I promise _ ,” he assured.

“ _ Dad, you never included physical education in homeschooling.” _

_ “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. You just have to get going. Also, there’s a path up, so you don’t have to worry about scaling the side of it or anything.” _

With a groan, Sukina began walking up the rocky “path”, if you could call it that. It was better than scaling the massive tower of rock, but large stones and deep dips still muddled the “easiness” of the trek up. She panted heavily by the time they reached the top, with the cold, night air stinging her nose and lungs as she inhaled. They set down their bags and sipped on some water, then got up, and the real training began. 

“ _ Hand to hand combat is a good skill to learn. You’ll rarely be without your weapon, but this will strengthen your body for any time you may have to fight,”  _ Stein led, assuming a combat stance. “ _ Copy my form here, and we’ll practice this and some basic moves first.” _

_ “What, like Karate?” _

_ “Not quite. I know some Judo and Muy Thai I could teach you eventually, though.” _

_ “Cool!” _

Stein chuckled.  _ “But for now, we’re going to work on becoming familiar with the weight of your body, how it moves as you move, and how to balance it. Like so…” _

With a smile from the pleasant memory, Sukina grabbed a disinfecting wipe and cleaned off the last bit of scarlet blood from her hands. She tossed that in the trash and wheeled over from her lab table to her desk, being careful of her unconscious leg. She shuffled through numerous papers and notes, chuckling slightly as she glanced at the handwriting on some from when she first began experimenting on herself. Her slight smile disappeared, though, as she glanced at the stitches on her hand, and the stitches on her wrist, just barely peeking out from underneath the sleeves of her own lab coat. She turned in her chair and looked back at the mirror nearby her lab table. She ignored her listless expression, but couldn’t ignore the stitches all over her skin. She ran her hand over the stitches on her cheek, under her eye, at her collarbone, over her fingers, her wrists, and began rubbing them without thinking. The rubbing turned into scratching, and Sukina had to jerk herself out of the trance she’d fallen into. She shook her head and ran her hands through her hair instead, inhaling deeply and rhythmically. 

“One… two… one… two…” she murmured. She sighed and sat up straight, smoothing out her hair in the mirror. She’d never be normal. Even as meister, even if she never developed powers, she’d always stick out in a crowd. She hadn’t seen anyone but her father in a long time, but she remembered meeting other kids when she was much younger, on the days she visited the academy with her father. She would shadow him in his classroom, and sometimes play with other kids when their parents were at a meeting for Death Scythes and their meisters.  _ None of them look like this _ , she thought, reaching for the bolt through her neck as a nervous gesture. She gripped it and turned it, listening to it until it clicked, and breathing a sigh of relief once it had. As much as she hated her stitches, she knew it would keep her safe. If anyone looked at her, which she knew was a definite possibility, they’d draw attention away from the uncanny combination of ash-blonde hair and orange snake eyes… only shades away from the eerie yellow of her mother’s.

Sukina spun herself back around to focus her attention back on the notes, catching the bottom of her dark grey lab coat underneath the wheel of her swivel chair, but letting it escape her notice. She picked out a pencil from a cup she kept some in, right at the top of her desk, and pushed old papers aside to write about her latest dissection experience. She hadn’t cut open her thigh before, and made notes on the diagram she’d sketched when the flesh was exposed, and in her eyesight. It was a jarring, but spectacular thing, to see your own blood pulsing, and muscle tissue pulled taught, or relaxed as she moved her leg with her hand; she lived for the thrill the experience gave her. Beyond dealing with destructive, angry, emotional urges, it was scientific. The process soothes her. And she refined her skills with a blade every time. Her father wasn’t sure how to feel about it, since she was safe, and he wasn’t home often enough to stop it, but he reluctantly allowed it to continue, since therapy wasn’t exactly an option with their unique family trauma.

Scribbling down notes, she watched the graphite of the pencil as it transcribed her thoughts, and enjoyed the swirls and twirls she made with her letters. Her younger handwriting was messy like her father’s (nearly illegible, true doctor’s handwriting), but she’d taken it upon herself to practice cursive, only to grow tired of it eventually. From the mixture of cursive and print, her current handwriting was made. She hoped it would stay close to this in the future, it was cute, and she liked how neat everything looked at first glance, until you read the content and discovered it spoke of blood, sinew, muscle, and bone. 

She finished up her notes eventually, taking sips of water and small breaks in between paragraphs. She looked them over, and tidied up the stack of notes, old and new. She did this while pushing back from her desk with her feet, pushing against the wall and expecting the chair to roll back, but her coat caught under the wheel had other ideas. She topped from her chair onto the ground, the thick stack of papers scattering in the air like a flurry, and a sickening  _ RIP _ cutting through the air.

Sukina’s eyes widened as she fell and her chair rolled over, falling on its side from the commotion. They immediately turned to the bottom hem of her lab coat, ripped from its stitches and beyond, into the fabric. Unconcerned for the papers, she picked it up and held it. She furrowed her brows in unpleasant surprise.

“No! No no no no!” she whined, her voice wavering. “No I was just— I was just rolling around!” she mumbled, fumbling with the fabric in her hands. 

Tears brimmed on the edges of her eyes as the soreness began to set in from her fall. She sat several feet away from her desk on the floor, her legs sprawled but kneeling. The rolling chair made it decently far before gravity decided otherwise.

This coat had been made by her mother, as a gift she and her father discovered after they finished grieving alone, years ago. It was planned for her eight birthday, with plenty of room for her to grow into, at least for a while. It gave her some closure, some piece of her mother to hold onto. It wasn’t destroyed, but it was damaged. That was enough.

She gripped the edges of her coat, tight enough to pull it taught. She grit her teeth and sneered, overcome with emotion at this tiny instance, but it involved something she loved, and she couldn’t ignore that. In a frenzy, she threw it down on the ground and let go of a scream as she lifted her arms and felt anger bubble up inside her. She brought them down, clenched her hands into fists, and as she ripped them open, a small bolt of black lightning shot out from her fingertips. Her eyes widened as she watched it travel across the room, slicing through the air in a split-second, crackling as it hit the pencil she’d set down on the desk, and burning the area it struck charcoal black. A faint burning smell began to fill the air as the realization of the situation settled in Sukina’s mind. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pencil, following it as it rolled back on her desk until it met the wall.

“D-did… did I just do that?” she murmured, the shock beginning to fade. She stood up and took careful steps toward her desk, fixating so much on the pencil that she failed to notice her hand. Entranced by what it had done, she neglected to check on its appearance. Slowly fading now, the color of her skin shifted back to its pale hue from the jet-black it had been a few moments before. The peculiar shade dispersed, and Sukina didn't notice.

She peered over her desk, down at the pencil, hesitant to touch it, but slowly reaching out for it with the hand that hadn’t casted magic— her left hand. She hissed and drew it back as she made contact, the heat (and probably the magic, too) stinging her skin. She put that finger in her mouth for a moment, then took it out as the pain subsided. She then glanced at her other hand, the one that fired the spell. She took a deep breath and reached out with that one to touch the pencil… and felt nothing. A smile crossed her face as she was easily able to grasp her entire hand around it and pick it up, feeling the change in texture across its body, varying from the regular smooth coating to the ashy area in the center. She brought it up closer to her face to examine it, her mind whirring with the discovery.

When she was confirmed a meister, she and her father both hoped that that was it for what her soul would allow her to do. If she was a meister, with enough human soul, perhaps no powers would show up. Sukina regrettably agreed to play it safe regardless, but she and her father both knew that hope was faulty. Kim Diehl-Duprée, who came up often in conversation about why Sukina couldn’t reveal her witch heritage, was both a witch  _ and  _ a meister, so it was more than possible. Now it was confirmed for Sukina.

But with the release of wondering came the weight of knowing. She had powers. She wouldn’t be able to leave, ever, not by her father’s rules. The glee that filled her mind seconds before had vanished completely, evaporated like water on a hot summer’s day. Replacing it was dread, pouring into her head and weighing down her shoulders and her body, forcing her to fall back down to her knees. She regret ever asking to know, tempted to fall over and curl up on the floor and cry. Her father wasn’t home, but as soon as a few more hours passed, he’d know, and he’d never let her leave. He’d keep her inside, and she’d be forced to spend who knows how long there, all because of what she was. Sukina shut her eyes, tears returning in full force, and tried to block everything out.

But one thought broke through. Sukina didn’t want to admit that it was right, but it wasn’t wrong. Her father would only keep her inside if he  _ knew _ about her powers.

She opened her eyes and wiped them on her sleeve, sitting up straight, glancing at the ripped hem of her coat, and then standing. She’d figure out what to do with that in a moment.

She sniffled and regained her composure, formulating a plan. She’d practice with her powers to see if she could control them when her father wasn’t at home— that way she could prevent any accidental reveals, especially at dinner, a guaranteed time they’d be in the same space. That was at least thirty minutes every day she’d have to watch out for her newfound powers, an hour if she was helping her father cook. She knew she’d have to keep them under control for the next two and a half years, but the idea of it all was more exciting than stressful. While practicing, she could experiment to see if she had any more abilities, and also research everything she could about witch magic from her own experiences. It would be challenging, but it was one she was willing to take up. Keeping things under control for the next two and a half years seemed feasible, and once that point passed, she’d no doubt have little trouble keeping things under wraps for any while afterwards.

“I’ll just keep it a secret. He’ll never have to know. No one will.”


	5. First Day

Emily shuffled in her sleep, lying comfily in her bed. Her alarm went off, and her phone vibrated while her favorite song played— though it wouldn’t be her favorite for much longer if she kept having it wake her. She grumbled and shifted in her sleep for a few minutes, pulling her comforter farther up over her and attempting to ignore it until her mind began to wake up and work, and she remembered that today was her first day at the DWMA. 

“Emily! Are you awake?” Maka called from down the hall, as she and Soul went down to the kitchen to get their morning coffee.

Emily’s eyes shot open, and she threw off her covers to turn off her alarm and check the time. 7:13 am. She hadn’t been ignoring it too long, and she still had plenty of time to get ready and eat before she left with her parents. “Yes ma’am!” she called, loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. She turned on her lamp and began waking herself up for real, stretching a couple times and skipping over to the bathroom to open the door. She turned on the sink and splashed a little water on her face, grabbing a towel to wipe it off. She looked up in at the mirror and breathed for a moment.

It seemed like only yesterday when she transformed for the first time. Truthfully, it was last Friday, so it was more like the day before the day before yesterday. August 8th, her birthday. She’d sat down at the table with her mother, father, and retired grandfather, watching her mother set down the cake in front of her. The thirteen candles glowed brightly, enhancing the happiness of the moment as her family sang her a happy birthday. She made her wish and blew the candles out with a quick, strong breath.

“And it’s official! We’ve got a teenager in the house!” Soul cried, laughing and patting his daughter on the shoulder. 

“Daaad, stop!” Emily pleaded, rolling her eyes to dull her embarrassment.

“Oh, getting rebellious already, hm?” Spirit poked, chuckling. 

“They’re only kidding, Emily,” Maka assured, picking up the cake cutter and setting down a paper plate for Emily. The birthday girl got the first piece, as per custom.

“I know, I know…” she repeated, trailing off and watching her mother cut the cake. She pointed to the piece she wanted, and reached out her hands to take the plate. As soon as her fingers closed carefully around it, and Maka returned to cut more slices, and Soul and Spirit both began asking for small pieces, Emily dropped the plate with a scream. Everyone’s heads spun around to look at her, eyes widening in shock as they glimpsed what her left arm had become. Her hand now shone as the silvery tip of a black and golden lance, and the plate had fallen and crumpled onto the floor with the slice of cake.

Spirit and Soul were overjoyed, and the piece of cake smushed on the floor was remembered only by Maka, after she pulled them off of Emily. They’d completely ignored the sharp, possibly impaling tip that had been her hand moments before.

Soul called Tsubaki and Black Star immediately after to boast, despite knowing that their son was already in school as a weapon with five different forms. Maka rolled her eyes and asked Spirit to help Emily calm down, as well as to help her return to a full human form. She took some deep breaths per Spirit’s instruction, standing calmly near the table. She ignored her father in the background, getting into a “friendly” argument with Black Star over the phone about whose child would become a death scythe first. She ended up just turning fully into a lance, rolling around a bit on the floor, but allowing her family to see her full form, and being unpleasantly surprised when she discovered she was naked in the weapon void. She eventually turned back to a fully human form, but it was an interesting experience to have for the first time.

  
  
  


Only a few days since then, and now she was set to have her first day at the famed school for meisters and weapons. After her transformation, her mother had immediately signed her up for classes. The school her mother and father went to, and the school they saved the world with. It felt a little surreal, just to think about it, but she’d always just considered it normal.

She stepped back into her bedroom and looked around for her clothes, but couldn’t find them. She swore she laid them out the night before. Oh well. A moment of frustration came and passed, and she walked to her dresser after rolling her eyes. She opened a drawer and looked around for her favorite pair of black shorts. Shorts or pants were so much easier to choose than shirts, and she wanted to take care of her outfit quickly before it was time to eat. That’d do. She pulled them out, kicked off her pajama pants and underwear, and changed. Shorts done— now was the hard part, the shirt. She threw off the large shirt (once belonging to her father) she’d worn to bed, and pulled open her closet door where she kept everything hung up on their hangers. 

Yellow? Nah. She was thinking about throwing on her yellow jacket, that’d be too much.

White? Maybe, but that could get dirty. Emily paused. She had a momentary realization that she never wore that shirt for that reason. Every single time. She’d have to donate it or something, or start wearing it.

Back on track. Her eyes fell onto her grass green tank top, with the lime green lining at the bottom. That one was the cutest… green, black, and yellow it was. She grabbed it and threw it on, adjusting the thin straps over her shoulders and messing with the small lime green bows at the top. Color coordination was fantastic.

Snatching her yellow hoodie with black stripes off its hook and slipping it on, she scanned her room for the last two essentials: shoes, and her headband. Shoes rested against one side of her dresser, and the headband sat beside her sink in the bathroom. She went back to her dresser and pulled out the middle drawer, picking out a pair of socks and plopping down on her carpeted floor to pull them over her feet. Shoes were next, and those were difficult. They were the same as her mother’s trademark boots from years before, only a few sizes smaller, and obviously newer. She stood up after buckling the straps, moving her foot to check it out. She’d only worn the boots a few times, but they seemed to be breaking in well.

Back into the bathroom to grab the headband, and her mother called just as she was reaching for it. “EMILY! Pancakes in the kitchen! They’ve got chocolate chips!”

“Coming!” she yelled back, picking up the headband to put it on and catching a glimpse of her horrendous bedhead. It struck every few weeks or so, and it was the only time she had to actually pay attention to her short hair. She let out a small groan of annoyance and grabbed her brush, running it through her thick, snowy locks a few times. There, she was presentable. 

She pulled the headband over her head, lifted it over her bangs, and set it in its place as she smiled at herself in the mirror. All ready to go, and now it was time for pancakes.

“I can’t believe she’s really starting today,” Maka commented, wisps of hair falling from behind her ears as she flipped the last few pancakes on the griddle. 

“Mhm, and she turned thirteen last Friday,” Soul reminded, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. “I wish she could bring home souls once she starts doing missions… I miss those things…” he trailed off, drooling slightly at the thought. His wife rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, she’ll need them more than you will. Besides, we hunted several the week before last in Canada. It’s not like you don’t still get to eat any because you’re on Death Scythe duties most of the time,” she poked, turning off the stovetop after the last pancake was flipped onto a yellow plate, and picked up by her. She carried it to the table and set it down in the middle, right by the vase of roses Spirit had brought Emily for her birthday. Right on cue, she hopped into the room— fully dressed in comparison to her parents, still sporting their sleepwear. Maka smiled softly. “Hey there Emmy, go ahead and get something to eat. We’ll get ready in a bit after we eat. We can’t be late for work as much as you can’t be late for your first day of school,” she assured, picking up her cup of coffee and enjoying the warm sip, sighing happily after it went down her throat.

Emily giggled slightly and sat down at the table. “No worries, mom.”

“Better hurry up before I eat all these,” Soul nagged, snickering as he grabbed some to stack on his plate. He quickly grabbed the maple syrup and drizzled it over them, cutting into the pancakes and watching the melted chocolate chips mix into the syrup.

Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed some. Although her father had quite an appetite, she knew he had a soft spot and would always save plenty for her. Now, for her mother… that was sometimes a different story, and it occasionally got him a dirty look. 

Thirty or so minutes later, the pancakes were eaten, the dishes were in the sink, the parents were dressed, and the family was ready to head out. They lived about a ten minute walk from the school, so they stepped out the door and made their way there. Soul muttered a few complaints that he and Maka wouldn’t be able to ride his motorcycle instead, and he quickly assured her that he was joking. He did truly enjoy the walk, largely because it gave him time to speculate about the change in his daughter’s life she was about to undergo. He was so proud. He’d have to talk to Kid and Black Star about making sure their sons were polite to her, though. Couldn’t have any boy trouble just yet.

Emily reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the Death Weapon Meister Academy and stood there for a moment, taking everything in. The spikes and skulls embedding its walls shone brightly in the morning sun. She glanced over and saw it making a funny face as it begrudgingly rose, and she giggled at it. Soul and Maka glanced at her and smiled, walking ahead of her on the steps.

“Come on now, you don’t want to be late,” Soul advised, nudging her as he passed.

“We have plenty of time, don’t worry about it Emily,” Maka contradicted, rolling her eyes. “We’ve still got about 10 minutes, and then the ten minutes before things actually kick off… I’m so glad Kid pushed the time back to start at 8 once he became head Grim Reaper, it’s so much nicer than seven o’clock,” she admitted.

“It’s only because of his symmetry thing, though,” Soul added, chuckling.

“Symmetry thing?” Emily inquired.

“Death is obsessed with symmetry,” Maka began to explain as they walked up the stairs, before catching sight of something standing on the central spike. “What is… What is that?”

Emily’s eyes shifted to where her mother’s were, and she found herself asking the same question. She ran up the steps ahead of her parents, reaching the top and looking around at the crowds of other students gathered outside, most of whom were also looking up at whatever was on the central spike of the building, at the very tip of it. Was it a bird? No, it was much too big, but what else could it be? There weren’t many squirrels around Death City unless they were in the park, but they wouldn’t have come this far, and, again, it seemed much too big.

Emily looked around for someone to ask, but most people stood in large groups or clusters, and all looked older. She glanced back, but her parents were still making their way up the steps, and she was a little anxious of what to do until her eyes fell upon a group of three students: a very tall blonde boy standing next to a short, brunette girl, and a second boy, looking younger than the blonde boy but older than the brunette, and very sharply dressed for his age. All three of them looked up at the spike, and Emily decided to approach them.

As she walked closer, she began to hear loud noise coming from the being on the spike, though it was still rather muddled. The blonde boy noticed her first, and she almost stopped, but his warm brown eyes eased her, and the soft smile that appeared did so even more. Both other heads turned down to look at her as she stepped up to their circle.

“Um… hi… I’m Emily… um… what’s going on?” she introduced.

“Oh, Toku’s up on the spike yelling about how great he is,” the blonde boy stated, speaking with an Australian accent and rolling his eyes. He then held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Sif, nice to meetcha,” he greeted. “Are you new?”

“Yep, today’s my first day… Who’s Toku?”

“He thinks he’s a big shot like his dad, he gets up there and yells all the time because he thinks he’s a “big star” or whatever,” the sharply dressed boy put in. He was darkly dressed as well, Emily noticed, with his black collared shirt matching his hair, white accents and all. 

“Wait, is he Mr. Nakatsukasa’s son?” Emily asked, connecting some dots. The sharply dressed boy seemed familiar as well; she was close to putting her finger on it. 

“Yeah, Mr. Black Star,” the boy replied.

“Do you two know each other?” the brunette broke in. 

“We might? I’m Nat,” the boy noted, looking at Emily. She thought about it, but it wasn’t quite clicking. Nat waited another moment and sighed. “Or Thanatos, if you know my full name. Mom and Dad toss that around more for whatever reason.”

“Oh! Yes yes I do know you!” she exclaimed, remembering meetings at the DWMA from years ago, brought along when she couldn’t be left alone at the house. “The black and white make more sense now,” she joked, giggling. Nat chuckled a little in return. “Wow, you’re Death’s son…” she realized, letting her thoughts settle.

“Nah, he’s still a regular bloke to us,” Sif assured. “He doesn’t have a partner, so he’s not badass yet,” he joked, nudging him.

“Not yet!” the girl echoed. “I’m Loki, by the way. Loki Mjölnïr,” she stated proudly. “Sif’s my older brother, and we’re partners! Well we’re gonna be, we’re working on it.”

“Oh, he’s really going off now,” Sif detracted, looking up at Toku. Emily followed his gaze, and she could finally hear what exactly the kid was spouting off up there. It appeared he was beginning to jump up and down as well. 

“BEHOLD THE AWESOMENESS OF ME, TOKU!! YAHOOOO!!!” he proclaimed, cupping his hands over his mouth to enhance the sound, and jumping up and down on the edge of the spike. He began doing flips soon after. “I’LL BE A BIGGER STAR THAN MY DAD! THAN GOD! THAN—!” His last statement was cut short. Unfortunately, on his last flip he landed on his butt on the spike, the force of which finally cracked it, and sent both it and him falling to the ground. He proceeded to let out his loudest yell yet, and perform flips in the air as he went down. Sif, Loki, Emily, and Nat all watched, and the piece of the spike landed nearby them on the ground shortly before Toku did, surprisingly squatting on his feet with a resounding echo instead of flat on his face. Emily jumped slightly when he landed, surprised his body could take the force. He immediately jumped up and began dancing and cheering for himself. “WOOOHOO! How about THAT, huh?!”

Nat began clapping for him, and Toku turned his attention towards the group standing there. Sif and Loki began joining in the applause as well, and so Emily felt compelled to.

“Nat! Sif! Loki! New girl! How was that?! What’d you think?!” Toku questioned, running over to the group and looking around.

“Ace, man!” Sif complimented, chuckling. “You actually managed to break off a piece this time.”

“I know! Not a side piece though, they got those blocked off after I tried a month ago. That would’ve been better. But the center spike isn’t blocked off yet!” he pointed out, laughing.

“Dad’s gonna have a fit,” Nat said excitedly, snickering at the thought.

“Who’s new girl?” Toku interrupted, looking at Emily from below her eye level. She was a little surprised after she noticed, since most were even or taller with her. He seemed a bit younger than her, so that might have been it, but she couldn’t really tell. 

“I’m—”

“Emily! There you are,” Maka called, walking over. Sif, Loki, and Toku’s jaws dropped when they looked up and saw Emily’s parents. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Toku exclaimed. “MR. AND MRS. EVANS! HI!”

“Toku! Jesus Christ!” Sif reacted, grabbing him and covering his mouth with his hand, which Toku proceeded to lick. Sif grimaced and held his ground while the rest of the group of kids burst out laughing, along with Soul. Maka held her composure. 

“Have you found some friends, Emily?” she asked, looking down at her daughter.

“Yep! I think so,” she affirmed, in between her laughter.

Maka smiled and put her arm on Souls’ shoulder. “It’s nice to see you, Sif, Loki, Nat, Toku. How’s school going?”

“Good! Loki and I are almost set up— OW!” Sif cried, pulling back his hand and shaking it after suffering a bite from Toku. “How old are you, seven?! Bloody hell!”

“I’m twelve! I’ve been twelve since April!”

“Uh huh, April fool’s!”

“Shut up!” 

Maka sighed and decided it was a lost cause to ask the boys as they bickered back and forth, with Loki jumping in occasionally. 

“I haven’t found a partner yet, but I’ve started classes,” Nat mentioned.

“Oh good, good!” Maka praised, patting Nat on the head. “You’re going to be such a strong meister, I know it,” she bet. “As the son of the Grim Reaper, it’s expected, but you’re a lot like your father, so you’ll be just fine either way.”

Nat beamed and nodded, smiling. “Thank you! I sure hope so… Oh, Emily, are you a meister or a weapon? I forgot to ask.”

Maka and Soul pat her on the shoulder to say they were heading inside, leaving her with the group of friends she’d found herself in. She smiled softly and watched them go, then turned back to look at Nat. “I’m a weapon, actually. Found out last Friday, on my birthday… I turn into a lance!” she elaborated cheerfully, excited just thinking about it.

“Ooh, a lance? I’m a little surprised you didn’t say scythe, like your dad, but a lance sounds cool too,” he admitted, right before the bell rang out for everyone to go to class. Toku and Sif were snapped out of their friendly poking, and they gathered back with the rest of the group. “Hey guys, you go on ahead and tell Professor Stein I’ll be there in a bit, I’m gonna walk with Emily to go get her her tag,” Nat requested.

“Alright, see ya man! See ya Emily!” Toku bid, walking with the group inside, and meeting up with another, taller brunette near the door. She crossed her arms with an annoyed look, and Toku slumped with shame at her chastising gaze. Nat and Emily walked together a little ways behind them, and turned a different way into the building. 

“So… where are we going?” Emily inquired.

“To the Death Room, we’ll talk to my dad about getting you a tag. Normally you’ve gotta have special permission, but I can walk in there whenever I want,” he bragged, not meaning to sound pompous, but showing off just enough to seem impressive. “Yknow, since’s he my dad and all,” he added, after pausing a little too long. Emily found it amusing, and… she also found Nat a little cute.

They walked inside and took a right, heading down the hallway and passing some stairs before turning left and walking deeper inside the building. Emily glanced around, watching other students make their way to class, slowly or hurriedly, and they came upon Professor Stein leaving the teacher’s lounge with a cup of coffee.

“Nat? Where are you going?” he inquired, watching him and Emily walk closer.

“I’m showing Emily to the Death Room, Professor. She’s a new student, so she needs her tag,” he explained, pulling on his own that read ‘MEISTER’, pinned to his black button-down. 

“Emily? Emily Evans?” Stein repeated, looking down at Emily. Emily was currently taking in how tall this man standing before her was, several feet taller than her, at least. He was a GIANT. She finally realized she should acknowledge his question directed at her, as well as the eye contact, and nodded.

“Y-yes sir!” she chirped.

She was surprised to see him form a gentle smile. “Good to know. I’m Professor Stein, you’ll probably be in my class because of your expected potential,” he complimented, chuckling slightly. He nodded at them, held his coffee, and went off walking down the hall. “I’ll see you two in a bit. Do remember to get a pass on your way back, please,” he reminded, waving goodbye with his free hand.

Nat did a little wave in return, and turned back to their former direction with Emily. “He seems a little scary, but as long as you’re not on his bad side you’ll be okay. Toku’s on the edge, who knows where he is after today,” he commented. “Maybe Helen’ll talk some sense into him. She’s his meister right now, but they don’t seem to get along well all the time… he doesn’t listen to her very well,” he added, pondering. 

“Aren’t Meisters and Weapons supposed to get along? Isn’t that the whole point?” Emily asked, curious. She thought back to the crowd, and wondered whether Helen was the taller brunette she saw with Toku earlier as they were leaving. 

“You’d think,” Nat remarked, sighing. “I don’t blame him. She’s kinda mean to him, to be honest. And if it was just him saying it, I’d be like okay yeah, sure, is she just telling you not to eat like a dog or to be quiet sometimes? Or like, other stuff that normal humans are  _ supposed  _ to do instead of the mess that he is sometimes,” he continued, Emily nodding as she listened to him, and they kept walking down the hallway. “But she is actually mean to him, Sif’s seen it, I’ve seen it, and it’s not… enough to be serious or anything, but it makes you wonder how they connected. At least, if they’re still compatible.”

Emily nodded and took in his statements as they turned another corner and kept walking, coming up on an important-looking door. Nat seemed very smart, and it sat a little strangely with her considering that he was younger than her, but he wasn’t that much younger, so she decided to ignore that bit.

They stopped in front of the important looking door, and Emily stepped back while Nat knocked, then stood back with her. The knock echoed in the halls around them as well as inside the space behind the door, until the doors opened on their own, and led into a room that defied the laws of space. Nat walked in nonchalantly, and Emily stared wide-eyed at the area around them as the doors closed behind them.

The space seemed to go on for miles, with sand and sky on either side of their path composing what would have been walls. Dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of black metal crosses stood in the sand. Emily was thankful that they had a smooth, white stone pathway to walk on, with large, red torii arching over them. It created a different atmosphere than the rest of the school for sure, and Emily’s eyes followed them down the path to view a large platform at the end of it, made out of the same material. She noticed a few chairs first, four set symmetrically at each side, before her eyes flew to the Grim Reaper, Lord Death, standing in the middle in front of a large mirror. She let out a small gasp, and he turned to face both of the students. His mask obscured his face, until he reached out and pulled it up. He looked so much like Nat, but older, and with piercing golden eyes instead of Nat’s deep blue. The white stripes in his hair weren’t in his hair at all, either, they floated around his head as circles, with a soft glow. The evenness of their direction contrasted with the vertical or slanted, tousled way that Nat’s appeared in his hair, including the lack of glowing etherealness. 

“Thanatos! What are you doing here?” Death inquired with a smile, walking towards them as they climbed up the steps to the platform. 

“Just helping a new student,” Nat answered, before sighing. “And Dad, it’s just ‘Nat’, okay? Please just save my full name for when you’re angry with me, it’s more effective that way,” he commented. 

“Don’t speak back with a tone like that, Thanatos,” Death replied firmly. 

“See?” Nat commented on the side, to Emily. She giggled a little in agreement with him. It did seem more effective that way.

“What are you here for? You should be in class,” Death interrupted, before eyeing Emily. “Oh my, are you Emily Evans? I haven’t seen you in ages!” he chirped, changing his tone rapidly. “You’re so much bigger than you were a few years ago, how old were you? 8? Such a good age, 8 years old…”

“Uh, yes, I’m Emily! Maka and Soul Evans are my parents,” she confirmed. “Is he always like this…?” she whispered aside to Nat, to which he nodded. She sighed and faced back towards him, to gently interrupt his rambling about the perfection of the number eight. This was definitely different than what she’d imagined the Grim Reaper, Lord Death, collector of souls and judge of the world to be like. Mom had been right about his “symmetry thing” after all. “I’m here to get a weapon tag, since I don’t have a partner yet,” she clarified, and thankfully grabbed Death’s attention. 

“Oh yes, here you go,” he responded, swirling his hand in the air. A tag appeared in his palm as he knelt down to hand it to Emily. She took it gently after glancing at Nat, who nodded. She pinned it to her tank top and smiled, looking at it as she turned slightly to each side. “And if that’s all, you two head to class now,” Death bid, standing back up. “Emily, I’ve sorted you already. You’ll be studying in the EAT class, with Thanatos, and lots of other strong meisters and weapons.”

Emily’s eyes lit up, and the breath she took in made her feel light with excitement. EAT! She was a higher-tier student, just as her parents expected. “Thank you Lord Death!” she replied, before remembering something else. “Oh, but Professor Stein said we needed a pass, too,” she put in. “Could we have one of those before we left?”

Death suddenly remembered his own rules, and chuckled slightly. “Of course.” He waved his hands to create a piece of paper this time, and set it down on a desk with pens and other papers that appeared from nowhere. The existence of the new object caused Emily to jump slightly, and its immediate disappearance after Death finished using it perplexed her. Nat seemed unfazed, and he took the slip of paper excusing their tardiness. 

“Thanks Dad,” Nat said, turning around as his father waved goodbye. Emily waved goodbye as they hopped down the steps and walked back out towards the doors, which opened for them as they drew near. 

Death watched them go with a soft smile on his face, thinking back for a moment to the first day he enrolled at the academy. He chuckled again as he remembered beating Soul and Black Star in the fight that day, and stepped back towards the mirror. He waved his hand in the air over the mirror, and it changed to show Maka and Soul hunting arriving at the location he’d sent them to for the day’s mission, to hunt several kishins on the outskirts of the city. 

“Maka, Soul, did you get to the location alright?” he inquired. 

“We did, Kid,” Maka affirmed, looking into a compact mirror she carried with her. It was useful not only for easy communication with Death, but in case she needed to check out her face without pulling out her phone and turning on the camera. That would be much easier to use, if it weren’t for the phone screen not counting enough as a reflective surface to allow the magic communication between Reapers and their meister pairs. 

“Emily just came in to get her weapon tag, I thought I would let you two know. And she’ll be in EAT, as we discussed.”

“Sweet! Has she found a partner yet?” Soul inquired.

“Soul, she’s been at school for twenty minutes,” Maka nagged.

“Still, I wouldn’t underestimate her.”

“Well, not to gossip, but she and Thanatos seem to be hitting it off well,” Death put in.

“Oh that’s so cute! Soul, what if she and Nat become partners? Nat’s a meister, and I’ll bet he’s going to be a good one as a grim reaper,” Maka projected, smiling as Soul put the kickstand up on his bike. After, he transformed into his scythe form, and she gripped his handle with a light chuckle.

“What a crazy thought. Our little girl being partners with Kid’s kid,” he commented, shaking his head in the reflection of his blade.

Death smiled and rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ll leave you two to the mission, call me if there’s any trouble. I hope there shouldn’t be from my top Death Scythe pair,” he teased, before ending the call and watching the mirror turn back to normal.

“Kid! We brought coffee!” Liz called, walking up the steps with two cups, one in each hand. Patti followed behind with a muffin, all from the teacher and Death Scythe lounge. Usually just called the teacher’s lounge by students, sometimes it was called both due to Death Scythes who weren’t teachers being allowed in as well.

“Ooh, thank you Liz,” Death returned, taking the cup gently in his hand. 

“Four sugars, four shots of cream, with eight total additions to the cup,” she listed, rolling her eyes. Patti chuckled and sat down in one of the chairs, eating her blueberry muffin. 

“I appreciate it very much, thank you,” Death praised, smiling and taking a sip.

  
  


“And the classroom is right up here!” Nat pointed out, leading Emily into Class Crescent Moon. “So glad you’re in this EAT class, because I have no idea where the NOT classroom is,” he admitted, setting the hallway pass on the table in the front of Professor Stein’s classroom.

“Nat Thompson, Emily Evans, thank you for joining us,” he acknowledged, turned towards the blackboard as he wrote out information for the day’s lesson.

“Emily Evans? Like Soul and Maka Evans?” someone asked, whispering, but loud enough for it to reach Emily’s ears.

“I guess so, she’s got the white hair like her dad. That’s so crazy! Three kids of Death Scythes in the same class, and one of them’s a Grim Reaper,” another replied.

Emily’s heart skipped a beat hearing that, and a surge of confidence rushed through her. That was so cool, that people knew her parents. They were famous, after all, as Death City’s main Death Scythe pair. Wow. That was so surreal to take in every now and then, but she shook it off as Nat led her up the steps to a row with a few empty seats. They sat down in them, next to the blue-haired boy from earlier… Toku.

“Hey, you got your tag, sweet!” he commented, noticing the piece of plastic pinned to Emily’s shirt. “What’s your weapon form?” he whisper yelled, as Stein began the lesson.

“Oh, I’m a lance,” she answered, smiling. “What about you?”

Toku snickered before he cockily replied, “Oh not much, just a katana, nunchucks, a pair of sai, a giant shuriken,  _ and  _ a chain scythe!”

Emily’s mouth nearly dropped. “Five weapon forms?! How is that possible?” she exclaimed, also whisper-yelling for the sake of not being caught.

He snickered again and smirked, before it shifted into a proud smile. “It’s a special family thing on my mom’s side, the Nakatsukasa clan. The firstborn kid, or at least it’s usually the firstborn, they get multiple weapon forms!”

Emily gasped again, shocked. That was so cool, and yet so unfair too. She’d love to have multiple forms… although after thinking it over, she realized she’d probably get confused when trying to transform. With how discombobulated this boy seemed to be, she had no idea how he managed it. Nat let her ponder for a bit, obviously about something, before looking over at the seat next to Toku and noticing it was empty. 

“Toku, where’s Helen?” he inquired, slightly worried.

Toku’s proud expression disappeared, and it turned to a frown as he propped up his elbow, and rest his chin in his hand. “She’s skipping class because she doesn’t wanna be seen with me today, after my cool stunt this morning,” he grumbled.

“What? But she’s your meister,” Nat remarked firmly.

“Yeah, and that’s what I said,” he said, furrowing his brow and letting out a huff. “She’s skipping so she can hang out with Ivan, that guy who got here a few weeks ago from Russia,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Isn’t he a weapon?” Nat pressed.

“Yeah,” Toku spat.

“That’s a really sucky thing to do, I’m sorry Toku,” Emily consoled, offering a soft smile as he looked towards her. Her smile widened as she saw a small one on his face.

“Thanks man, it’ll be okay I think,” he assured, shrugging.

“I think you two should see if you’re still compatible, I’m telling you Toku,” Nat suggested, messing with his hair with his fingers.

“Dude I’ve told you, we’re fine—”

“Obviously not,” he cut off, looking at Toku seriously. Emily felt very awkward in the moment, but from what she’d heard and just barely seen, Nat was onto something. 

“Sorry if it’s not my place, Toku, but I agree with Nat here,” she added, twiddling her fingers. “Meisters and weapons are supposed to trust and respect each other, and if your meister is criticizing you, and even skipping class because she doesn’t want to be  _ seen  _ with you? I feel like that’s a big red flag…” she trailed off. “I think you might want to check and see if you’re still compatible, and look for a new meister who… who cares about you.”

Toku opened his mouth to retort, but closed it before saying anything. He knew they were right. He let go of a heavy sigh and slumped on the desk, with his head rested on crossed arms. Nat relaxed, with a small, hopeful smile appearing on his face. Emily relaxed as well, hopeful her words had helped Nat’s persuasion. “You’re probably right… and I know it,” he admitted begrudgingly. “We’ve been partners for almost a year… but it’s been like this for more than half of that,” he realized, thinking it over. “We’ve only got like… three souls. Maybe four. I don’t even remember, because we never go on missions.” He paused for another moment. “I’ll go talk to your Dad before school tomorrow or something then,” he acquiesced. 

Nat let out a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he murmured. “I appreciate it man, thanks for finally listening,” he said, offering a smile and patting Toku on the shoulder. “It’s gonna turn out for the better, I know it will,” he promised. 

“You owe me ten bucks if it doesn’t,” Toku half-jokingly shot back, letting go of a little laugh and sitting up, before fist bumping Nat. “You won’t miss it, you rich kid.”

“Deal, I guess then,” he agreed, rolling his eyes. Emily smiled watching them, and then turned her attention to the professor’s lesson, with the two boys still making side conversation. 


	6. Unfortunate

The rest of the school day passed in the blink of an eye, with going to lunch after the morning class, and then heading back for the afternoon. At the end of the day, when the school bell rang at three o’clock, Emily walked outside with Nat and Toku, meeting up with Sif and Loki to talk, since they sat in a different part of the classroom. They walked out together with the sun glowing brightly in the sky, and the temperature outside reflecting that. 

“Death, it’s hot out here,” Loki commented, taking off her long, beige cardigan and tying it around her waist. 

“Aw come on, if we were still in Sydney you’d be happy it was this cool!” Sif joked, laughing and putting his hands behind his head as they walked out. 

“Sydney? Like Australia?” Emily questioned.

“Yep! Our mum’s the Death Scythe in Oceania, so we grew up down there and moved here a couple months ago to start school,” Loki explained. “And our other mum used to be the Death Scythe for East Asia, but now she helps out in Oceania.”

“Ohh… Wait, what were your last names again?” Emily inquired, trying to piece together bits of information she barely remembered. It had started with an M, that much she was sure of, but she couldn’t recall how she was familiar with it.

“Their mom’s Marie Mjolnïr, she’s a hammer Death Scythe,” Nat explained. “And Asuza Yumi is their other mom, she’s a bowgun rifle.”

“Oh! Wow, that’s so cool… that’s so cool that we’re all kids of Death Scythes,” Emily murmured, beaming as she skipped towards the steps, speeding up slightly when she saw her parents talking with two other adults near the stairs’ edge. A tall, black-haired woman stood with a shorter, energetic, blue-haired man. 

“Mom! Dad! I didn’t know you guys were back yet!” Toku cried suddenly, running over with his arms open as Tsubaki knelt down to embrace her son. She placed a small kiss on his cheek before he could react and avoid it, to which he immediately blushed of embarrassment. “Moooom!"

It wasn’t anything special, but Emily still felt the same excitement from that morning, when she took in the sight of the DWMA for the first time as one of its students. Learning in just one day how important the Death Scythes were to keeping balance and order in the world gave her a newfound appreciation for her parents’ work. She skipped over to them after Toku went to his, and the rest of the group followed. The adults kept “brief” conversation, talking about a get-together now that all the kids were in school, asking about the Nakatsukasa’s recent mission in Korea that had ended sooner than expected (and well at that), and other things. The kids quickly became bored and retreated to their own circle, as the adults began to drone on and on.

“So Emily, see any potential meisters around today?” Loki inquired, sitting cross-legged on top of a slab of stone encircling the pavilion closest to the stairs like a fence.

“Hmm… I dunno! I wasn’t really looking,” she admitted, chuckling slightly.

Loki gave a small laugh as well. “That’s fair! Oh, and can I call you Emmy for short?”

“Oh, sure!” Emily said, both surprised and enamored by the gesture.

“Emily’s already pretty short, what do you need a nickname for?” Toku asked.

“Well, I think it’s fun to say, Taco,” Loki teased, sticking out her tongue.

“Hey!! You promised not to call me that anymore!” he grumbled.

“I was crossing my fingers!” she retorted, snickering.

Sif rolled his eyes and let them get into their own conversation. “I mean, I know a couple older kids who are still looking for weapon partners, not too old, but 14 or 15, my age,” he offered. “I know it’s only your first day, but you should have an idea of what you want to look for in a partner, yknow?”

“I agree,” Nat put in, looking towards Emily. “This is only the first day, so there won’t be a lot yet, but once word gets around that another Death Scythe’s child is in school and looking for a meister, I  _ know  _ you’re going to get swarmed with people asking to try and be your partner,” he stated, matter-of-factly. 

“You really think so?” Emily asked.

“Of course! And what’s your form again? A spear?” Nat checked.

“A lance, so close.”

“Exactly! You’re the daughter of a Death Scythe, and you’ve got a cool weapon form. You won’t have trouble finding potential partners.”

“But you still gotta find one you’re compatible with,” Sif brought up, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone railing. 

“Oh yeah.. compatible. I guess that’s why you haven’t found one yet, right Nat?” Emily questioned, turning her head up towards him. The question caught him slightly off guard.

“Huh?”

“Well, that’s gotta be it right? You said at lunch you’d been here for a few months, but you haven’t found a partner in that time? As the son of the Grim Reaper, Lord Death himself??? I just don’t believe it,” she commented shrugging. “I mean, you’re polite, considerate, friendly, organized, relaxed…” she trailed off, almost saying ‘ _ and cute, too _ ’. She stopped herself just in time, blushing as she realized, and then blushing more as she looked up to see that Nat was doing the same.

“Emily… that’s super nice of you,” he replied, scratching the back of his head. Sif had his hands over his mouth, simply watching and staying silent to see how this would unfold before him. “You really think all that?” Nat inquired, admiration lacing his voice.

“Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it,” she affirmed, smiling.

“You know what  _ I  _ think?” Sif broke in, not before catching Loki from falling over the edge of the railing after a push from Toku. Toku subsequently got a solid kick in the groin for attempting to do so, from her older brother. “ _ I  _ think that you two should start training together, because you sound pretty compatible to me,” he stated bluntly.

“Emmy, are you getting tested for soul compatibility with Nat?!” Soul exclaimed, overhearing the children’s conversation. The attention of all the adults immediately turned to them, and Emily found herself stammering incoherently.

“Soul, you put her on the spot, you know she doesn’t like that!” Maka nagged.

“It was a rather weighty question, I don’t blame her for getting flustered,” Tsubaki put in. “Although I would like to hear the answer before Black Star, Toku, and I all head home, since Liz dropped off Toku and Kiku’s things earlier today,” she added, turning her attention gently to Emily. Her soft smile put her at ease, but not quite enough to answer.

Thankfully, Nat found it appropriate to step in, and said, “Well, I don’t know if we’ll test ourselves just yet. It’s only been one day after all.” He took a moment to check that Emily was alright, and she gave a small nod and smile to assure him. His heart fluttered slightly, and he cleared his throat. “We’re going to… give it some time before then. Just in case any other more skilled meisters are interested,” he explained. The group was placated.

“More skilled meisters my ass,” Black Star commented, chuckling and disrupting the moment of silence. “Nat I know you’re just a kid, but come on, give yourself some credit. You’re a grim reaper. That’s top notch,” he complimented, and crossed his arms.

Nat took the praise to heart, and nodded respectfully. “Thank you sir!”

Black Star chuckled again and walked over, reaching a hand out to mess up Nat’s hair with a snicker. “Don’t mention it, kid. Also, do me a favor and keep your hair messy so your dad sees it and freaks out. Toku, bud, we’re heading out now.”

Nat grinned and nodded as he watched his friend go. Emily, Sif, and Loki (hesitantly) waved goodbye as well.

“Bye guys! Just wait, I’m gonna come up with  _ another  _ awesome stunt for tomorrow morning!” he called out, walking down the steps.

“Ay mate, you gotta go talk to Death about your compatibility in the morning! No stunt for you tomorrow!” Sif reminded, to which a disappointed Toku groaned as he made his way down the giant, white marble steps of the DWMA. Soul and Maka moved over to collect Emily, not too long before Liz and Patti walked outside with Death. There was more brief conversation, talk of a mysterious wavelength that had popped up—but nothing too strong yet, so nothing to worry about—other Death Scythe work, and suggestions for what should be restocked in the faculty lounge. Emily and Nat groaned for them to finish up, and Sif and Loki bid the group farewell as they made their way down the steps and onto the path towards the DWMA dormitories. The Evans and the Thompsons finally split after that, with Emily and Nat holding each other’s glance until the distance was too great, and separated them.

  
  


The next day, at first, was slightly more boring, with the rush of ‘the first day’ fading once Emily slept, and then woke again. She got dressed, ate breakfast, and then walked with her parents to school as she did the day before. They walked up the stairs together, and her parents left Emily outside before they went in, standing by her new group of friends.

“Hey, morning Emmy!” Loki bid, sitting on the same slab of stone as the day before. Nat stood besides her, and they were conversing about “meister things” until Emily came along. 

“Good morning!” she replied, looking around. “Where’re Toku and Sif?”

“Sif’s getting Toku. He insisted that he needed to do  _ some  _ sort of stunt, in case everyone forgot how awesome he was,” Nat explained, rolling his eyes. “Sif’s making sure he stays in one piece for the compatibility test. And probably trying to find Helen, too,” he remarked. 

“Ah,” Emily mused. 

The group stood in silence for not even a moment, before the commotion of a certain weapon (and his meister) broke that. Emily turned to look as Sif walked towards them with Toku, as well as the brunette meister she’d caught a glance of yesterday: Helen. She snapped back at Toku as he made large, aggravated gestures with his hands, and Emily cringed. Just a few looks told her that was  _ not  _ a healthy partnership. Sif looked the most tired, his eye twitching as he dealt with the meister and weapon, dragging them along until they came up close enough to the group. Toku was delighted to see Emily, Loki, and Nat, Helen not so much. 

“Sif, why’d we walk back over here?” she inquired dryly.

“Well, Emily and Nat wanted to give compatibility a shot too, I figured we’d get them and all go together,” he retorted, before changing his tone. “I mean, did you two want to try?” he asked softly. Emily blushed slightly at that, and turned to Nat, who scratched his head.

“I mean… why not? Let’s give it a shot,” Nat suggested, grinning. Emily did the same in response, beaming.

“Okay!”

Helen groaned. Toku glared at her, and Emily’s smile changed to a frown. The group moved inside, and Nat took the lead towards his father’s room. Emily walked beside him, Toku and Helen in the middle, and Sif and Loki taking up the rear. The assumption was that Sif was there, tall as he was, to make sure Helen wouldn’t run off, although with how well she was cooperating, Emily had a feeling she wanted to find out about her compatibility with Toku, too. 

Everyone held their breath as they made their way to the Death Room. Nat stepped inside to talk to his father, and the rest of the group waited outside the doors. Helen leaned against them with her arms crossed, and her head turned aside. Toku shuffled over to Emily on the left right, Helen a few feet away, and Loki and Sif on the right. 

“So uh, Helen, right?” Emily murmured, looking her way. Helen perked up and glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “My name’s Emily, nice to meet you.”

“I heard there was another Death Scythe child coming to school. I don’t know what I expected, but…” she faded out, shrugging. Emily cringed and made a face. She’d tried! She’d really tried. Helen smiled coldly at her reaction. “So what’s your weapon form?”

“I’m a lance,” Emily answered, flat. She wondered how Toku dealt with this every day, until she remembered that Helen avoided him most of the time.

“Huh. Not a scythe?” she poked.

“Nope, not a scythe,” Emily echoed, faking a smile. How long was Nat going to be in the Death Room talking to his father?

Almost on cue, Nat pushed the doors open, with everyone stepping back to give them room. Nat looked at Toku and Helen expectantly, and they walked in through the large, red doors. As they closed behind the meister and weapon, Sif breathed a sigh of relief.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, I hate her,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. 

“I’ve known her for… like… Twenty minutes. And I don’t like her. And I like people! I’m a very people person,” Emily remarked.

“She is  _ not  _ a people person, don’t feel bad about it,” Loki said, curling her lip snidely upward as she did so. “You’re sweet, she’s not.”

Nat sighed. “I just hope it goes well. As well as it can go. It’s clear enough to anyone that they’re not compatible, I don’t even know how they matched at all…” he trailed off. “I’m sure my dad’ll see it. It shouldn’t take too long.” The others nodded in agreement, and they leaned on the walls this time, on the right side of the doors. They waited in silence, but it was a soft reprieve after Helen’s sharpness. Nat checked his watch, and Emily asked the time. 7:50. They had plenty of time before they needed to be in class, and Loki put in that they could always get a pass as well. It was another lecture day in EAT, so they wouldn’t be missing anything exciting like weapon and meister training.

A few more minutes passed, and everyone’s heads turned as the red doors opened to a steaming Helen, and an anxious Toku. Helen turned to her former partner and let out a heavy huff. “This is embarrassing! But at  _ least _ it’s not as embarrassing as you are!” she spat, turning and walking away down the hall. 

Once she left, Toku let out a sigh, and all the stress seemed to disappear from his body. He waited until she turned the corner, and then jumped up and the air with a whisper-yell. “Thank GOD,” he exclaimed. He whipped around to the rest of the group with the biggest smile on his face, took a deep breath, and let it out. “She is SUCH a bitch. My mom says I’m not allowed to call girls that even though they’re mean but it’s TRUE!” he cried, exasperated.

Sif rolled his eyes and came over to pat him on the back. Toku looked thankfully up at him, and then at Nat and Emily. “Oh yeah, he’s waiting for you two by the way. He said to send you in whenever.”

Nat and Emily exchanged a glance, shrugged, smiled, and stepped through the Death Room doors. Toku, Sif, and Loki watched them walk inside. The doors closed behind them with a soft thud, and everyone picked up conversation much easier than before.

“They’re gonna be great partners,” Toku commented, with a twinge of envy in his voice. Sif noticed, and pat him on the shoulder again.

“You’ll find a good meister, Toku, I’m sure,” Loki assured, stepping over and punching him playfully on the shoulder. He looked up with a slight chuckle, their eyes meeting at the same height, while Sif looked on from above.

“Thanks, Loki,” he mumbled. “I dunno. Nat’s cool, he’s a grim reaper, and I’m sure Emily’s gonna be strong. They’re gonna be a good team,” he praised, forcing a bit of a smile. He brought one of his hands to his upper arm and rubbed it nervously. “I just don’t know what I’m gonna do now. I’ve been partners with Helen since I got here, and now I’m not.” He took a moment and let go of a small sigh. “I dunno.”

“It’s not your fault, man,” Sif murmured. “It’s still super early on, you’ve got plenty of time to find another partner.”

“Yeah,” he replied, holding his hand on his arm for a moment before dropping it, and smiling softly. “Man, Sif, if you were a meister I’d go in with you after Nat and Emily,” he joked, chuckling, his usual bright energy returning. Sif laughed as well, and Loki grinned watching the two of them. The mood of the room (or hallway, rather) was back to a comfortable spot. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, mate,” Sif replied, then glanced back at the doors. He furrowed his brow with a quizzical look. “What do you two think is taking them so long…?” 

“I dunno,” Loki piped up, obviously bored and fidgeting with her cardigan. “Maybe Lord Death is going off about how Nat’s hair is unsymmetrical or something. That’s usually it.”

“Yeah,” Toku agreed. Then, footsteps sounded from behind the doors.

The three of them all perked up, stepping back and giving room for the doors to open. The footsteps sounded solemn and heavy, not cheery or excited, and worry set in. It solidified when Emily and Nat stepped outside into the hallway with bleak expressions. Emily sniffled and held back tears, and Nat seemed to carry weight on his shoulders, slouching them down with disappointment. Sif opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Nat answered his question before it left his lips.

“We’re not compatible,” he stated, eyeing the floor with a tired gaze.

“What?! That’s crazy!” Toku exclaimed. “Why not?”

“I dunno,” Emily mumbled, sniffling as Loki opened her arms for a hug, and they exchanged one. “I don’t understand, and neither does Nat or his dad.”

“He said something about a fundamental difference in our world views, that drive us as people,” Nat added, clarifying, then gritting his teeth and clenching his fist in frustration. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

The school bell ringing 8 o’clock interrupted the tenseness of the moment, and Nat sighed as it finished ringing. Emily looked up and let go of her hug with Loki.

“Come on, you guys. Let’s just go to class,” Sif led, steering the group down the hall.


End file.
